


All You Need is Trust

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Author is Team "Cyclops was Right", First Time, Logan POV, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Slow Burn, Snikt Snikt, Uncanny X-Men (2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: Logan had barely gotten used to not being at Scott's throat when Cable shows up telling them that for the future of the entire mutant race - actually for the sake of everyone on the planet - they need to get married. Logan is convinced this is a weird joke on both of them that Scott is clearly taking too seriously. Then he’s actually at the altar getting married to Scott Summers. Okay, he’s going to drink the entire bar dry now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not even going to pretend that this has a solid canon comic book foundation since I haven’t read everything. Also from what I have read even Marvel doesn’t keep its continuity intact. So there is stuff I’ll keep and stuff I’ll be ignoring. Based mostly on Uncanny X-Men 11 & 12 & the Annual (2019).
> 
> I’m utterly baffled that after beating my head (for over 3 years!) on my stubborn writer’s block this is the fandom that breaks through, having never written it. Well, I do love me some Scott/Logan.

“This is a goddamned awful joke, Cable,” Logan finally managed to say, breaking the silence.

Cable’s expression was as grim as Logan had ever seen it. Considering he had the Summers’ jawline he could pull of the look almost as good as his father often did. Which was saying something considering Nathan was currently a teenager and not the older one who’d finished growing into the full impact of that expression. It actually reminded Logan that the two Summers shared more than just more their looks. Their sense of humor was about the same at damn near non-existent. He’d met psychopaths that enjoyed jokes more than either of them.

Speaking of which, Scott hadn’t moved one inch since his son had dropped this bombshell on them. If it wasn’t for the fact that Logan could _hear_ his heartbeat and the higher gear it was now racing away at, he would have thought that Cable hadn’t said it out loud but had sent it telepathically just to him to keep his father out of the loop.

“What makes you think I’m joking?”

“Kid–”

“Don’t call me that,” Cable scowled at him.

“It ain’t enough I’m fighting at your dad’s side? Ya want me to fucking _marry_ the guy?” Logan had to take a long pull of whiskey from the bottle he’d snatched from behind Harry’s bar counter just to deal with the trauma of the entire situation. Logan had no idea who he owed one, but he was giving the universe a quiet and fervent thanks that Cable was trying to keep his time meddling a secret from the others because he’d at least waited to approach him (although dragging Scott out of bed in his boxers) when everyone else was sleeping. Logan wished he’d was asleep too. Then as least he could dismiss this entire thing as a damn awful and _weird_ nightmare.

But of course, Logan’s luck didn’t run that way. 

Fuck. Marriage. 

Right now, he may not want to spill Scott Summer’s guts all over the floor which was something that could change at any moment with Cyclops (Logan couldn’t even guarantee he wouldn’t want to stab the boy scout within the next ten minutes), but that sure as hell didn’t mean he was anywhere near wanting to…to… marry the guy. 

Logan didn’t wanna marry anyone! There easily several billion people in the entire universe that would be ahead of Summers on that list. Hell, he wouldn’t even be on it!

There was no goddamned way that Nathan didn’t know that – he was a telepath for fuck’s sake – but here he was asking for the insane. Was it something in the Summers blood which made them bug-fuck crazy? Or was this one if their rare attempts at humor? Both? It had to be a joke that Cable was pulling on them. A joke which Scott was taking too damned seriously.

“Why?” Scott finally spoke. “I’m trying to think of why you would think this is a sound tactical move and I can’t think of more than a couple of reasons to do it. Neither which provide more than a short-term benefit which can’t be gained from other means.”

Logan shot him a look of disbelief at the idea that Scott had managed to think up even one reason for the two of them to get hitched much less two. Yup, okay, that confirmed it. All Summers were off their rockers.

Cable’s entire body language softened as he looked at his father. And Logan was reminded all over again that the only reason Scott Summers lived and breathed was because his son brought him back. Which again made this entire situation feel all the more ridiculous considering how often Logan has wanted to shove his claws into Cyclop’s skull. You’d have thought the kid would be trying to lessen the urge Logan was feeling to claw them both to bits, not increase it.

“I know what I’m asking is a lot. But it’s important, please, Dad.”

Logan snorted in disbelief, then froze in horror as he realized that Scott was actually listening. Actually being convinced by this weak argument. Cable ignored him as he kept his focus on a softer target. “I wouldn’t be asking if there wasn’t a reason for it. If it wasn’t important to the future of everyone on this planet: mutant, human and inhuman alike.”

Scott ran his right hand across the stumble on his jaw, looking like his mind was racing away at top speed before he said, “I believe you, Nathan.”

“So you’ll marry Logan?” Cable asked eagerly, looking delighted at how easily his father had folded.

Scott’s expression was as stoic as ever but Logan could smell the stress hormones which he was letting off. “Yes.”

Logan choked on a mouthful of whiskey, not even his healing factor kept him from feeling the burn of alcohol in his lungs. But even the powerful urge to cough didn’t stop him from draining the bottle down to the dregs. Forcefully, he smacked it down on the counter, using the bang of glass on wood to get both Summers to look at him. Logan crossed his arms, growling low at both of them. “Really? That’s enough for ya, Cyke? Fine. But this is something that takes two of us. Convince _me_. Give me a damned good, solid reason to do the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my long life, kid.”

Both Cable and Scott frowned at him.

Scott pointed out, “You’ve deliberately set yourself on fire on multiple occasions, that I know of, for no other reason than to scare people. How were those better decisions?”

“Shut it, Slim. I’m talking to the kid,” Logan grumbled. 

“You know I can’t give you details...”

“That’s what I thought,” Logan snorted again, and turned away from the teenager. He reached for another bottle of Jack Daniel’s, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to blot out this hellish conversation but at least it would blunt it. _Shit._ Maybe Harry had a bottle or five of absinthe somewhere. Then at least he could convince himself that hearing Scott Summers agree to marry him was a hallucination.

Or maybe he should just go and find a Hulk or Thor to smash his head into the ground of few times to destroy enough brain-cells to wipe out the entire evening. Actually, yeah, that sounded great.

Cable scrunched his eyes closed and for a brief moment it made him look more like a kid than ever. “Okay, okay, wait… let me think this through for a moment.” Scott and Logan watched him walk to a far corner and begin messing around with his A.I. computer, smartly remembering to not talk to it aloud as Logan’s sensitive hearing would have heard every word.

“Ya really think this is a good idea?!” Logan asked low and angry, through tightly clenched teeth at Scott. He barely managing to keep himself from shouting. Not out of a sense of courtesy to the others who were still sleeping, according to his heightened senses, but out of the desire to keep this whole shit-show quiet.

“You don’t?” Scott asked, sounding honestly baffled. His head turned enough to Logan that he could see the small flicker of red light of the force beams bouncing off the ruby-quartz of his glasses. “If it’s as important as Nathan says than getting married doesn’t actually cost us anything, except maybe on a personal level and it wouldn’t be much since neither of us in currently in another relationship. You’re technically dead as you haven’t done the paperwork to get yourself declared alive again. And I’m a fugitive, who most people think is still dead. That has more of an impact on the team than us going through a marriage ceremony.”

Logan ground his teeth throughout Scott’s entire speech. Unable to to come up with a single good reason to refute his logic. Well, other than the very important ‘I don’t wanna’ which actually really fucking mattered in this situation.

It also made him feel even more of a petulant teenager than Cable. Fucking Scott Summers, _always_ did that to him. How? He had over a hundred years of age on the other man and Scott always made him feel like a kid who wasn’t even making an effort to keep up with the rest of the class, letting him down.

“Also, we can ask if Nathan can give us a timeline on how long he thinks our marriage needs to last,” Scott pointed out, reasonably. “Then we can file divorce papers or an annulment and be done with it.”

Okay, it was weird that it kind of pissed Logan off even more to hear Scott suddenly go from accepting of the idea of marrying him to being so dismissive of it and talking about divorcing him. Fuck… maybe the Summers crazy was actually contagious and powerful enough to override his healing factor.

Before Logan could sink into a worried sulk at the idea, Nathan came back to their side of the bar. 

“Dad, I need to talk to Logan. Alone,” he said. 

Scott frowned again, but nodded in agreement after a moment. “Alright,” he said as he got up and headed back up the stairs to his room. The shadows of the bar not quite deep enough to hide the multiple old scars and still healing wounds on his bare back. “I’ll start making plans.”

Logan scowled after him, after a few seconds it sunk in Scott was going to make plans for this _bullshit_. As if he was that certain Cable would be able to persuade Logan to agree to tying the knot with him.

 _Fuck_ that!

The arrogance of his assumption made Logan furious. He was ready to storm out of the bar and forget he’d ever listened to Cable, Layla, or Ruth in the first place about needing to look out for Scott Summers. 

He made it three steps before Cable’s voice froze him in his tracks.

“The mutant vaccine is going to fail.”

“What?” Logan asked, turning to the kid. His claws, which he hadn’t even noticed he’d popped out, slowly descended back into the skin of his aching knuckles. 

“I don’t know the exact timescale. I don’t know if this is the bad thing I warned you about,” Cable continued, his face creased with frustration. “But I do know when the vaccine starts to fail, and there’s no X-Men, the results are catastrophic for the future.”

Logan considered this, feeling not particularly surprised by the information. The entire vaccine working to suppress the mutant gene always sounded too tidy. Nothing was ever so easy in this life. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time, or even second time, they’d dealt with a so-called mutant cure. “That doesn’t explain this crazy plan.”

“The X-Men need my father.” 

Logan growled but wasn’t quite able to dispute it. As mutants they were down on leaders. The death of the X-Men had taken down, not just some of the best trained, and powerful mutants in their community. It had also depleted their stock of experienced leaders. Well, experienced and good leaders. One aspect about being on the X-teams was that if you were a member long enough, at some point you’d get tapped to lead one. But there were those team leaders and then there was the Fearless Leader. The man who was the closest thing to a General for all X-men. Scott Summers had even been the leader of _all_ mutants. 

No one else could claim that title. Not even Magneto at his most megalomaniacal.

And no matter what issues Logan had with Scott, even at the angriest he’d been with him, he never doubted that when it came to combat leadership, Cyclops had nearly everyone beat. He needed to get a better grip on who should be doing the killing, not let kids have only the blood and violence in their life, and work on how he handled personnel out of a fight (like learn to actually let others fucking relax). But when it came to leading fighters in combat, Scott Summers was easily among the best Logan had ever seen in his life. The only other X-men who was a close rival to his skills was Ororo. 

Hell, the only person who Logan trusted to lead _more_ in a battlefield was Steve Rogers. Slim was that good in a fight. Although Logan would rather swallow molten adamantium before ever admitting it to anyone.

Logan did his best and deadliest work when he was alone and didn’t have to worry about anybody else. And while he could lead a team if he needed to, he was also self-aware enough to know he did better in team combat scenarios when someone else was keeping him in check. In a fight, it always felt like having to keep an eye on and direct others hobbled him and kept him from being as devastating as he could be, which is why he really preferred to have another person do the job. Well, when it was someone he trusted. The memory of Blindfold –Ruth– reminding him of how often Scott had been his keeper flashed back to him. He grimaced. 

“What the hell does marriage have to do with it?”

“Dad does better when he’s in a relationship.”

Logan blinked at the kid in disbelief. “Are ya fuckin’ kidding me?”

Cable shot him an annoyed look. “When Dad isn’t in a relationship, I swear he acts like he has a death-wish and its hard enough keeping him alive as it is. Its worse when he’s alone,” the frustration felt by the kid was intense enough for Logan to smell it, “but when he has a partner – someone he can talk to – then he’s less prone to taking unnecessary risks which endanger his life.”

“What does it have to do with me? Sounds like anyone not related to him would do,” Logan pointed out.

“Because he trusts you the most.”

Logan stilled for a moment before deliberately putting his back to the kid. _Fuck_ , he needed more whiskey.

“Whatever disputes you’ve had in the past, he never stopped trusting you,” Cable continued.

What the hell was Logan suppose to say to that?

“And you don’t know how much it means to him that you showed up when no one else did.”

“Sticking your nose in your dad’s noggin tell you that?” 

“No, I don’t need to. I _know_ him,” Cable said with the combined certainty of an omega-level telepath and a know-it-all time-traveling teenager.

Logan rubbed at his face. His anger slowly draining away, feeling like it had taken all his resistance with it. “I was only there ‘cause ya told me to keep him alive. Does he know that?”

“Probably,” Cable shrugged, glancing up the stairs where his father had gone. “I can’t see how Dad wouldn’t have thought of the possibility, but it isn’t the point. What matters to him is that you showed up. It’s not like you were the only free mutant out there. But they didn’t come when he called.

 _You_ did. You’re the only one alive he’d accept.”

“Fuck,” Logan said with heartfelt resignation. And not for the first time fervently wished Jeannie was alive right now, but for the first time ever it was out of a desire for her to take her damned exhausting husband –and son– off his hands.

Next to him, Cable straightened in place as the teenager realized about as soon as Logan did that he was going to say yes to this crazy thing. 

Fuck. 

He really needed more whiskey… and beer.

*-*-*-*

“I hate everyone and everything, but especially you,” Logan growled at Scott.

“I know,” Scott said, as he resettled his glasses on his nose and checked the knot of his black tie for the hundredth time, looking not at all perturbed by the fanged grimace Logan was shooting at him. “Again, thanks for doing this, Jamie,” Scott said to the only other person along for this charade.

Cable had long since run off. Little shit. Logan mentally promised himself he would figure some way to make his life hell the _moment_ he figured out when in time he’d gone off to. With a working healing factor Logan had the years to burn to lay in wait. And then when Summers least expected it... he was a dead man.

Jamie Madrox and his dupe both shrugged, although there was a faint smirk on the dupe’s face as he glanced over at Logan. “You needed a couple of witnesses. I can do a two for one so why not?” asked Jamie.

“So it ain’t ‘cause you’re planning on being the first to tell the others?” Logan asked, snarling.

“That’s just a bonus,” Jamie said, grinning. His dupe’s smirk got bigger.

“No matter what your intentions, I appreciate your presence here today, Jamie,” Scott said, calmly.

Logan grumbled to himself and resisted the urge to claw off the formal suit which Scott had scrounged up from somewhere. He knew the only reason it fit as well as it did was because the other man had long had his measurements memorized from how often Logan had needed X-Men combat gear made, but it still made him feel itchy knowing Scott knew them well enough to get him a perfectly tailored fucking monkey suit in less than twenty-four hours. 

Frankly, Logan found it too convenient and suspected Cable’s meddling again. He snapped, “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind.” 

Scott nodded, passing Logan to head up the concrete stairs of some small rinky-dink The Beatles’ themed wedding chapel in Las Vegas so far off the strip it was a wonder if it got any business.

They were here even though there had been closer states which gave out same day marriage licenses because they still wanted blood tests and other stuff done which Nevada didn’t ask for. Also Las Vegas made more tactical sense to Scott, and Logan had to agree. Even with the risk of them being identified making it a dangerous location, the benefits were undeniable. They were far enough away from the East Coast that their enemies shouldn’t be able to use it as a data point in narrowing down their current location to Westchester. Also, there were enough ridiculous marriages, including people who used pseudonyms in Sin City that it would take several days for the more alert government agencies to figure out they’d actually been there.

And more important to Logan’s fraying temper, the boy scout knew of an old lab Sinister had run several years ago out in the desert which he wanted to check out for new activity, specifically for any mutant victims if the evil scientist was up to his bad habits again. The X-Men had never destroyed the lab since it had been abandoned by Sinister long before the original team had formed. Cyke had thought going into it had been too risky for the young X-men team (which, having actually met them, Logan had to agree), and later when they did have the experience and manpower he’d thought it was better to keep the knowledge of it in reserve.

Logan could see the logic behind it, knowing an enemy bolthole meant it became easier to find them if they ran in the right direction, but emotionally the thought of giving Sinister any position to grow in strength, to have a place to torment mutants with his experiments made him want tear the lab apart and watch it burn. The only reason Logan didn’t give him all kinds of hell about it the second he learned about the lab’s existence was because if there was one person on the planet who wanted Sinister in jail (or preferably in the ground) more than anyone else it was Scott. 

And if he’d read the same news reports Logan had about the inhuman-hybrid Scott clone which Mr. Sinister had created after his death… well, it was no wonder to Logan that Sinister had become such a prime target for him.

So the mission for the day was to scout the lab out. If the lab wasn’t being actively used also check to see if there was any trail to Sinister’s current whereabouts. And it was active, then Logan would sneak in while Cyclops called up Magik to get whomever wanted to join in the take down from Harry’s Hideaway. 

This was the story Scott had fed the rest of the X-men while having the benefit of it being completely true. Scott had also explained to Logan that the only reason he was using a cover at all was because he was certain his brother would try to stop them going through with the wedding.

Logan was just hoping he had the chance to kill a few things before the night was out. 

But first, this…madness. At least they’d already picked up the marriage license so they were almost done.

Scott dealt with the short Latina woman who greeted them enthusiastically at the foyer of the chapel, talking to her quietly about what they wanted.

Logan flatly ignored them, focusing instead of scanning their surroundings for threats. The song ‘There are places I remember’, floated from the chapel’s surprisingly good sound system. He grimaced and tried to ignore the lyrics. As the song hummed along about lost friends and lovers, he really tried not take it as a weird mocking from the universe.

He was here alright. Wasn’t he suffering enough? 

“Logan, are you ready?” Scott asked, turning back towards him and the Madroxes.

“Fuck…, no,” Logan sighed. 

“If you don’t want to do this, it’s-”

“Shut up, I said yes already, didn’t I?”

The chapel lady was wide-eyed as she glanced from Logan to Scott and back again. Then she seemed to remember that a payday was on the line because she shook it off and beamed at them both. “Now, I know that marriage seems like a very intimidating event, but here at the ‘All You Need is Love’ Chapel truly believe that no matter what, as long as you have love then nothing else can get in the way.”

Logan stared at her in disbelief, and he could see even Scott was as startled by the enthusiasm. 

“I agree!” Jamie said cheerfully behind them. “Don’t mind them, they’re just a bit gun-shy. Been married before you know, and well, once burned-!” He shrugged.

For once, Logan actually stopped being irritated that Madrox had decided to come along, but only for a couple of seconds.

“Aye yi yi, yes, I can understand that… um... let’s get started. Your marriage license, please?” said the chapel lady.

Logan tuned out the conversation, and focused instead on something which was bothering him. He had to sniff the air, focusing on sorting through the scents of the chapel, ignoring the smells of paper and plastic flowers, dust and old faded potpourri. Then it hit him, making him freeze in place: Scott was afraid. 

The scent was faint, barely registering on Logan’s nose. He suspected it was so low because Scott knew exactly how much his heightened senses could read emotional states and was using every trick of biofeedback he’d ever picked up to try to control his body, but he wasn’t quite able to suppress his body’s chemical response to emotions. Scott wasn’t just stiff because of the usual stick up his ass. He was forcing himself to be still to control his emotions, his anxiety, his _fear._

“One minute,” Logan interrupted the chapel lady, grabbing Scott by the arm in a tight grip and lugging him off to a corner.

“Logan! What are you–!” Scott exclaimed as he was dragged away.

“If ya don’t want to do this, say it,” Logan hissed. “I can smell the fear on ya.” He bit back a demand of ‘What the hell do ya think I’m gonna to do ya?’ which built up behind his teeth. It wasn’t like Scott didn’t have every reason to worry about his well-being with how often Logan threatened him. He been so angry at him he’d actively wanted to murder him on more than one occasion, but Scott hadn’t been at all scared before now. Why the hell would this... _sham_ of a wedding ceremony change that?

“What? Oh.” Scott’s entirely body language softened up. “Would you believe me if I said it’s not you? It’s me?”

Logan snorted in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Scott sighed, then he glanced back to where Madrox, the dupe and the wedding lady were all looking back at them. The chapel lady looked especially concerned. He looked back at Logan. In a low voice he said, “I keep thinking… well, this is my third wedding.”

“If ya say third’s time the charm….”

“No!” Scott’s mouth curved up into a brief smile which faded quickly, leaving him looking as serious as if they were going into battle. “No, more like three strikes, you’re out.”

“This ain’t fuckin’ baseball, Slim,” Logan grumbled, relaxing as he began believing Scott about this having nothing to do with him. Shit, he didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d believed that Scott had actually been scared of him here, in this moment. Logan had clawed man up in their fight on Utopia so deeply he still had the faint lines of scars on his back. He’d actively sought to kill him when he was in prison and he hadn’t smelled a whiff of fear from Scott either time. To be scenting how afraid he was now? While doing this? Logan would have left and not come anywhere near Scott Summers ever again if he could help it.

He continued, “Also, if ya don’t think Jean was anything else than a goddamned home run, I’m leaving ya on the damned altar.” Shit… that was a mind-trip of a threat to be using.

Scott actually chuckled at that, the faint fear scent finally stopped coming off of him. “Yeah, you’re right on that. She was a grand slam all the way.” Scott breathed in deep then straightened his spine, checking the fit of his tie _again_ to Logan’s irritation. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Logan followed a step behind Scott as they returned the altar. 

“Um, do you have rings?” the chapel lady asked brightly. Making no mention of the interruption although Logan could smell the relief coming off her. 

“Oh! I do! I do! Whoops, bad choice of words, I mean I got them,” Madrox’s dupe said enthusiastically.

Logan glared, but both of the Jamies beamed at him. “Consider them a wedding gift from Layla and me. She picked them.”

Of course, Layla had known this was gonna happen. And she said she didn’t have that weird future knowledge anymore. Yeah, right.

“Thank you, Jamie. Please pass on my gratitude to your wife,” Scott said as the dupe dropped the rings into his palm. He then passed one to Logan.

Logan sniffed the air, scenting out the metal as silver. He was relieved they weren’t gold. There were too many painful memories associated with gold wedding bands. Silver was completely new territory. He suspected that was precisely why Layla (he really didn’t think Madrox had anything to do with it) had picked them. 

“Just don’t let Logan stab me for taking pictures,” Jamie said to Scott, as the dupe waved, pointing a phone at Scott and Logan. “Because: pics or it didn’t happen!”

Logan grumbled again about how he hated everything. Madrox was definitely being added to his ‘Shit List’ right now. He turned the ring around in his hand and noticed it had an engraving on the inside: ‘Scott & Logan. All You Need is Trust’. Dammit, Layla was getting close to joining her husband on his bad side if she kept this up.

The chapel woman asked if they had vows they’d like to say but they both said no. Then when prompted by her, Scott and Logan exchanged rings in dead silence, the only sound was the camera shutter noise from Madrox’s phone as he madly took pictures.

“And now, by the power invested in me by the great state of Nevada and the power of the music of the Beatles, you may kiss your spouse!” the chapel lady said happily. 

Logan blinked at her. But before he could get out the sarcastic response of ‘Yeah, when hell freezes over’, Logan felt Scott settle his hands on his cheeks, his long fingers sinking into the dark hair of Logan’s sideburns. He jerked his gaze up to Scott’s, catching himself wide-eyed in the reflection of the ruby-quartz glasses.

“Please don’t stab me,” Scott said in a very low, nearly inaudible voice before he leaned down, tilted Logan’s face up a bit more and kissed him. 

_Kissed him._

Over the course of Logan’s long life there have been very few moments that have truly stunned him. Stunned him speechless. Stunned him to a lingering stillness. He’d always had an instant, instinctive reaction which was immediate violence. And the older he became the more difficult it was to surprise him, especially with most of his memories back. He’d just lived too damned much to be confounded by life’s curveballs.

Being kissed by Scott Summers succeeded in doing it for the first time in nearly a decade.

Scott kept the kiss closed-mouth chaste. Held it for a count of three seconds before he backed up. Logan who hadn’t closed his eyes from shock, saw the defensive stance Scott fell into at once. As if he expected Logan to try to rip his guts out. 

He had nothing to worry about. Logan could barely move, could barely think. His brain was stuck on a stupid loop of a disbelieving: _‘He kissed me.’_

Only the Madroxes’s synchronized piercing wolf-whistles managed to shake him out of it. 

“Oh, shut up!” Logan snarled, turning away from the chapel lady to rub frantically at his mouth with the back of his hand. He could feel the burn of the kiss across his mouth like he’d been branded on the lips only his healing wasn’t kicking in to get rid of it, leaving the sensation to settle in deep.

Even his heart was racing. 

_Fucking hell!_ This whole situation felt like someone was playing a terrible joke on him. That was a kind of kiss you gave your mother. He had absolutely no goddamned reason to be so shaken by the feel of Scott’s mouth on his. Logan rubbed at his mouth again before digging into the suit jacket’s inner pocket to pull out a flask of whiskey. It wouldn’t be enough. Right now, he felt like he could drink an entire bar dry. “I’ll wait outside.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Scott said, not sounding at all disturbed by what had just happened. Even the spike in his heartbeat had settled back down to his normal rate.

One of the Jamies opened his mouth, no doubt to make a smart-assed comment. Logan held up his right hand and popped the claws so they emerged slowly and slicked with blood. “Don’t say a fuckin’ word. Or I’ll gut ya both and send my apologies to Layla later.”

The click of teeth closing was the only reason Logan didn’t follow through on the threat and instead stormed out. The whiskey barely lasted what felt for a mouthful before he drained the flask. Logan tucked it back into the jacket pocket and sat on the concrete steps leading up to the chapel’s front door, feeling like his knees were giving out from under him.

The silver band on his ring finger felt heavy and even its bright gleam seemed ominous. Logan knew it was all in his head, but he couldn’t shake off the growing feeling of certainty that he’d gotten himself into deep trouble, maybe deeper than even _he_ could handle.

Oh fuck… He’d just done that. He’d just married fucking _Cyclops_ of the X-Men. That asshole.

And unable to help it, Logan rubbed at his mouth again trying to wear away the phantom sensation of the kiss to no avail before giving up and pulling out a cigar to give him something else to focus on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m such a sucker for marriage of convenience fics.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Sinister’s abandoned lab was a bust. There had been nothing around but a couple sentry robots for Logan to destroy. Although Sinister had used the lab recently enough so nothing had been buried in a thick cake of dust, it had still been long enough that Logan had only picked up old scent trails which led nowhere useful.

They did manage to get some intel such as that Dark Beast and Sinister had spent some time there together before they’d left the lab. The alternative universe Beast shed as much as their Hank, so his distinct gray fur had made it easy for figure out who’d been hanging out with Sinister. And that at least one of them was heading for another hidden lab in Long Island City, or so Madrox had managed to pull from a working computer before internal defenses caused a complete systems crash as the servers melted.

Scott seemed to take it in stride, but Logan could smell how irritated he was by not getting more out of the mission. Logan had only been able to confirm the lab had last been used over four months ago and there hadn’t been any mutant victims during that time. Yet Logan suspected this lab had been the source of the inhuman-mutant hybrids because he found some interesting scents around the lab equipment, including one which had smelled of Scott but slightly off. 

Knowing the timeline, it wasn’t like they could’ve done anything about it then since they’d both been dead, as Madrox had reminded them. 

Logan was pissed and frustrated he hadn’t been able to get in a good fight. He did get a flash of satisfaction of destroying everything in sight. Also seeing Cyke take down the whole lab complex with an unleashed concussive blast was always hair-raising and thrilling but the feeling didn’t last long. It was damn annoying to be nearly back to square one with only a single clue as to where to go next which had no guarantee of panning out.

Now taken back to Harry’s Hideway by Magik, Logan just wanted to be left alone so he could drink himself into a stupor to try to forget the whole day had even happened. 

The only one who’d arrived back at the bar in a good mood was Jamie Madrox.

Logan ignored all the greetings of welcome back by the rest of the team and went down to the basement to raid the stores. He grabbed a case of whiskey and as much beer as he could add atop of it, so he could drink it in the safety of his room.

Only the gloves Scott wore as part of his uniform and Logan’s habit of keeping his hands tucked into the pockets of his canvas jacket kept Illyana Rasputin from figuring out exactly what they’d done and that wouldn’t last long with Jamie’s big mouth about to spill the beans. Logan intended to be behind his door before the shouting started.

He barely made it in time. He’d closed the door, cursing mentally over the lack of a working lock. He hadn’t cared about it beforehand since his claws had been enough of a deterrent and he’d kinda looked forward to chasing down anyone who had the balls to steal from him. Hopefully, even an angry Alex would remember Logan had no problem in stabbing annoying assholes or brother-in-laws.

Shit… they were in-laws now.

Even downing a bottle of whiskey as quickly as he could wasn’t fast enough to drown out Alex’s shout of anger or the startled exclamations of everyone else from making it to Logan’s sensitive ears. Then Scott’s brother really got into it, calling Logan the kind of names which would have left him bleeding on the floor if he’d said them to Logan’s face.

But also true things: Assassin. Remorseless killer. Torturer. Mindless berserker.

_Monster_

Logan grimaced and rooted into his duffel bag for something he’d never felt comfortable enough to wear for long. The noise-cancelling headphones had been a gift from Kitty (he’d left them at the bar without realizing it and Harry had returned them to him) a few days into the opening of the Jean Grey School. It had been her attempt to keep Logan from actually stabbing the more irritating students (i.e. Quentin Quire), hoping it could give him some peace and quiet when he wasn’t being the Headmaster to a bunch of mutant brats. He never had the heart to tell her they only muffled noise to a tolerable level, or that he was too much of a paranoid bastard to use them. Especially since as safe as they both tried to make the school for the kids, lessons of the past had long since taught him it was always a target for mutant bigots.

But right now, Logan needed to ignore the reality going on outside his door so they’d have to do.

He’d just heard Alex call him a murderer when Scott shouted back, making Logan pause in mid-motion. “Enough! Logan has earned my respect a hundred times over. There isn’t an X-men who hasn’t owed him their lives! Including you, Alex! So enough!”

Alex didn’t seem to be listening to his older brother because he just started another tirade. Logan settled on the headphone on his head and reached for the alcohol, ignoring how Scott’s words were affecting him. It wasn’t personal, their fearless leader would have stood up for anybody being insulted by a teammate. He had no goddamned reason to feel a warm sense of pleasure at being defended.

Logan sprawled onto the bare mattress he’d tossed onto the floor, when he’d claimed the small room for himself, and set about drinking the alcohol as fast as he could. Only after finishing another full bottle of whiskey and all the beer was he able to relax enough to slip into a meditative state, tuning out the world and trying not to think about today.

So Logan was startled enough to instantly pop claws at the light kick he felt against his left foot. 

“What?!” he growled, instantly snapping his eyes to see Scott looking down at him. He ripped off the headphones and repeated in a calmer tone, “What? Don’t ya know to fuckin’ knock? That’s how ya get stabbed, Slim.”

“I did knock,” Scott said, ignoring the adamantium claws pointed at him. 

Logan would almost feel insulted over how casually he took his threat, maybe even thinking that with the whole marriage thing Scott didn’t take him seriously anymore, if the other man hadn’t _always_ acted like Logan wasn’t particularly dangerous to him. It was up there as one of the many things about Scott Summers which just bugged Logan so fucking much.

Annoyed, Logan growled, deep and low in his throat. It was a noise which always hit people right in the ancient prey center of their brains. Scott didn’t flinch or tense. He didn’t even get a skipped heartbeat. 

_Goddammit._

“Here,” Scott said, dropping a manila envelope onto Logan’s lap. “I’d figured you’d want this.”

Logan picked it off his lap and frowned at it, it smelled like an office: paper, toner and pen ink. He shifted his frown to Scott, who’d already turned to leave the room. “Hey, how’d your brother take it? He sounded pissed.” Logan knew how Alex had reacted, but he wanted to hear Scott’s take on it.

Scott stopped at the door and glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s probably an understatement,” he said with a resigned tone. His heartbeat was steady, so Scott didn’t seem to be too upset by his brother’s reaction.

Logan sniffed the air. At least Alex hadn’t physically lashed out Scott in his anger. There was no fresh blood smell on him.

“I’m giving him some space to cool off but if I was you I’d probably avoid him for a day or so, at least if you don’t want to end up recovering from one of his plasma blasts. He’ll get over it, but he needs time,” Scott continued before he left, closing the door behind him.

“Great,” Logan sighed, making plans to do exactly that. Although the envelope wasn’t sealed he ripped the top open with one claw, because when you had built in letter openers it was a damned shame to _not_ use them, and shook out a few sheets of paper. 

His eyes narrowed as he read it, and before he even got to the end he’d crumpled the papers in his fists. 

“Sonuvabitch!” 

Whatever sympathies or guilt he’d had over leaving Scott fucking Summers to deal with their teammates on his own evaporated into thin air, leaving Logan steaming in anger. He stuffed the crumpled papers back into the manila envelope, and for good measure tore the blasted wedding ring off his finger and tossed it in too, before he buried all of it under his clothes of his travel bag, all the while growling loud enough for anyone passing by his closed door to hear. 

Logan was damned aware this entire marriage was as false as stairs of sand and he wasn’t anymore invested in it than fucking Cyclops. But the other man still won the biggest bastard award. For what kind of asshole gave their spouse signed divorce papers on the _same_ day as their wedding?

Scott Summers, that’s who!

*-*-*-*

Habits of a lifetime had Logan grudgingly awake right before sunrise even when he’d spent the night tossing and turning. Since he was up before anyone else, he made the decision to get his ass out of the bar for a while before he gave into temptation and stabbed both Summers brothers for being major pains in his ass. He couldn’t guarantee his temper wouldn’t snap at the sight of them so it was better he be elsewhere. Anyway, he’d been meaning to go through what remained of the Jean Grey School again, now was a good a time as any if only to prevent bloodshed. Not that he minded bloodied claws but Harry always got mad and cut Logan off from his best beer whenever any part of his bar got too splattered with blood and viscera. 

Apparently it was a biohazard.

Anyway, Logan had only gotten part of the way into his search of the Xavier estate grounds for anything useful. He’d been glad to find his motorcycle mostly in one piece. Hopefully, it would only need a little work to get it running again. He had hoped to find enough of his tools had escaped damage for him to put it back together so most of first day’s search had been spent in the remnants of the second garage.

When Logan had first stopped by, when he’d decided to scout ahead of the deadline for Cyclop’s public call-to-arms for X-men, he’d been surprised to find the living grounds of the school – Krakoa – still there after all these months. He’d been grateful for his presence as Krakoa had been keeping looters from breaching the walls of the property (and boy had it been tough to convince him to let in anyone who wanted to get in that night) and his presence was the only reason Logan had any hope of being able to find anything worth salvaging. He was also the reason the bodies of all the mutant-loathing assholes who’d showed up on the school grounds to try to kill Scott hadn’t been found by the authorities. 

He wasn’t certain how much Krakoa had understood, but Logan had told him that if any others ever came with weapons which they could hurt him, it was better if he abandoned the Xavier estate. It wouldn’t be worth it.

He hoped Krakoa listened and took care of himself but without a telepath he couldn’t certain that he’d agreed.

One thing Logan didn’t find, something he’d been torn about actually succeeding in locating was a bamf. Those blue pests were annoying little fuckers who got into his whiskey way too often, but Logan had to admit that he liked having more than one means of teleportation to be available to the team. If something happened to Rasputin during a fight they were stuck. A bamf could be a great backup plan. And if Scott had some other means of travel in mind he sure as hell hadn’t bothered to share so Logan was making his own plans in that regard.

It wasn’t like their ragtag group of surviving X-men had the resources for a new Blackbird, or even to fix a damaged one, so they really needed another way of getting the hell out of dodge when – not if – circumstances required it. Their luck was so terrible it was inevitable that this was a problem they’d have to deal with.

So he spent the second day back at the school grounds mostly exploring all the nooks and crannies of the ruins, being surprised by how many tunnels and subbasement layers remained intact below the surface of the foundations where the mansion had rested. Having the mansion transported to Limbo then to Central Park hadn’t caused as much structural damage as he’d thought it would. Most of the real damage was in the outer buildings which hadn’t gone along with the mansion, such as the outermost dorms, the greenhouse, and the other small buildings used for keeping the rest of the large estate maintained. But what had remained intact was pretty extensive. The tunnels alone took so long to explore – looking for stuff, and trying to be careful nothing fell on him – that he didn’t make it back to the bar until well past nightfall.

Logan returned feeling worn out – worn thin – not physically, but mentally by going through what remained of the school he’d built. It _hurt_ so damned much to see the damage it had taken without him there to protect it that all he wanted to do was collapse onto his mattress with a six pack a beer, not move and not think until the next morning. Not even the excuse of being dead kept him from feeling guilt and thinking he should have been there.

So when he walked into his room, found the scent of Alex Summers all over it, and nothing of his, not even the fucking mattress on the floor, well, he lost his temper.

No one could blame him if he killed the bastard.

“Alex Summers!” Logan bellowed, as he stormed out of the room, claws out and ready to tear Havok into gory pieces. In-law or no in-law, the man was dead!

His enhanced senses heard the scramble of Rahne, Dani, and a couple of Madroxes getting out of the way of his charge. He sniffed the air, Alex’s scent trail was hours old and heading out the backdoor. But he wasn’t Wolverine for nothing, he’d find him and make him bleed.

Logan made it to the door, ready to track him down when Scott came around the corner and caught him by the arm. He didn’t want to admit it, but it wasn’t Scott’s strength which stopped him. He could have easily torn out of his grip. No, it was seeing that he still had the wedding band on his finger which really halted Logan in his tracks.

“Ya can’t stop me from killing him,” Logan snarled, shaking off his surprise. After his visit last night, he’d expected Scott to have taken it off too.

“Maybe not, but I’m asking you not to kill him,” Scott said, releasing Logan’s arm as soon as he had his attention. Logan could see the moment he realized that he wasn’t wearing the ring anymore because he froze for a moment before continuing more stiffly, “And if you’re looking for your duffel bag… its now in my room.”

Logan was now completely startled out of his anger. “What the hell?!”

“I think we’re both being punished,” Scott admitted, his tone chagrined. He looked away from Logan, and rubbed at the wedding ring with his left thumb.

Logan snorted, “And what? Ya couldn’t move it back?”

“I tried. Alex isn’t the only one we pissed off by getting married, apparently.”

*-*-*-*

Logan stared at his duffel bag placed neatly under the space below the full-sized bed. The entire room smelled mostly of Scott, but there was also a lingering smell of Alex on the bag, and a much stronger scent of Illyana as well as feel of goddamned magic which he would never explain as more than a mild prickling sensation on his skin.

“There’s magic all over this room,” Logan said flatly, resisting the psychosomatic urge to sneeze.

“I was afraid of that. It confirms the reason why I can’t get anything out,” Scott said over Logan’s shoulder. “I tried to return the bag before you got back and wasn’t even able to get it close to the door. I tried the window. Then I tried to move my things out which didn’t work either.”

Logan asked, baffled, “How the hell did we manage to piss off Rasputin?”

“She wasn’t happy we used her as a teleportation Uber – her words – and didn’t invite her to the wedding. She said she did the spell because… a married couple should live together.” Scott’s tone was calm, but you didn’t have to have Logan’s enhanced senses to read the tension in his body language. He looked to be bracing himself for something. 

What? Did he think Logan was going to punch him? Logan tried not to feel annoyed or hurt because… hell, maybe he would have. Logan didn’t trust his temper to always be under his control, but even if he’d still been riding the anger at Alex he found himself getting distracted from everything by the flash of silver on Scott’s ring finger.

“Fuck,” Logan said after a few seconds, resigned and feeling tired all over again now that anger wasn’t fueling him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t live without that stuff. He was more than capable of walking out with only the clothes on his back and surviving just fine. Hell, at times he’d even had even less, having to run out naked on more than one occasion as enemies tried to kill him. Actually, at the moment he had more of an advantage than usual, he’d found a few of his cash stashes from the ruins and the rolls were in his pockets. It was was just… he didn’t think this was a scenario he ever had to worry about with the X-men.

“And the mattress?” he asked resigned, suspecting nothing good. Dammit, it wasn’t like there were extras now with the others here. And it was too way late in the evening for him to go find a replacement.

“Burned,” Scott admitted, “with the excuse that it was filthy. I would have stopped Alex if I’d known, Logan.”

“I know,” Logan said. Because of course, he would have. Scott didn’t want him in his space anymore than Logan wanted to be here, marriage or no marriage that hadn’t changed between them. 

Scott entered the room and he stood there fidgeting in a way which was so uncharacteristic that Logan could feel the hairs raising on the back of his neck as he eyed him warily. He tried not to think about how easy it would be a for a shapeshifter to infiltrate them right now, whether mutant or a damned Skrull.

“What?” he asked, suspiciously. 

“You can stay the night,” Scott said abruptly, sound even more rigid than usual.

For a moment, Logan honestly thought his hearing had frizted out on him. He stared at Scott, whose mouth thinned in a determined line which Logan found an all too familiar sight when the other man had made a hard decision he would see through to the end no matter how much Logan hated it. 

And normally, yeah, Logan would have fought him on it just on principle, tooth and claw. But frankly he was still too worn from his trip out to the school ruins. Having spent hours on end in the school which had only been built because of his anger at Scott, had shed new light on the certain events. Such as, what seemed obvious in retrospect, that the school had only survived as long as it did because Cyclops had been out in the world being a bigger target and a louder threat to the mutant haters, so while in his shadow they’d been left in relative peace. Yeah, they’d still been targets, but the big guns had been tracking the mutant revolutionary who scared the crap out of them. It made Logan think maybe he should’ve made more of an effort to bury the hatchet – and not in the tempting target of Cyclop’s face – every single time he had shown up to help them. 

Hell, he couldn’t do anything about the past, at least not without time machine or a mutant with temporal powers inclined to do him a favor. All he could control was his actions in the present. 

Logan eyed Scott, willing to give him an out. He said, “I can take the floor.”

“You hate sleeping on the floor. You actually become crankier, and I don’t think the others can survive the experience. I don’t think _I_ can survive it,” Scott said, finally relaxing. 

Logan snorted, amused because it was true. He warned, “I sleep naked.”

“No, you don’t,” Scott replied at once, actually smiling a bit now. Then he reached into the small set of drawers by the wall facing the foot of the bed and handed Logan a can of beer.

Hell, for that alone Logan was willing to forgive a lot of shit. Maybe he’d even be willing to _not_ skin Alex alive when he caught up with him… maybe.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to take a shower before going to sleep?” Scott asked hopefully.

“No. Tough luck, Slim.” Logan swallowed down the can of beer, crumpling it and instead of dumping the empty on the floor, actually tossed it into the trash can at the other end of the room in order to keep the peace between them because Slim was a neat freak. He stripped down to his underwear and got under the covers. He wasn’t going to move even if Scott decided to take back his offer. The bed was his now. A quick sniff told Logan he’d even changed the sheets to clean ones. Scott’s scent only came through the mattress underneath it. 

Logan was surprised it didn’t bother him as much as he expected.

“Well, I knew what I was getting into,” Scott sighed to himself before he handed Logan another beer, who happily opened it. “I’ll be back in a few. I’m going to shower.”

Logan slowed down his drinking and eyed Scott as he left the room pausing only to turn off the light. Once again his gaze was caught by the gleam of silver as the door closed. Scott’s words struck him harder than expected, because… well, he had known what he was getting himself into by agreeing to marry Logan. Scott had even insisted on the marriage license because as he had put it, he wanted to do it right. 

Maybe Scott hadn’t actually given him divorce papers as an insult. If he’d intended that, he sure as hell wouldn’t be allowing Logan to stay in his room, much less in his bed. 

Shit, Logan really needed think of a better way to phrase that.

He finished the second beer can and tossed it away to join the first. Then he found himself hesitating.

“Oh, fuck it,” Logan muttered to himself, and reached under the bed to pull out his bag, shifted through it and pulled out the silver ring from the envelope. He slipped it onto his finger before he thought twice about it. Then he closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

After stealing Scott’s pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shakes head at Scott* You are soooo lucky you're pretty.


	3. Chapter 3

No matter how angry or irritated Logan was at their fearless leader at any given moment, it said a lot of how deep his trust in the other man ran that he barely roused from sleep when Scott joined him. Actually, he found he slept so well that he couldn’t help but revel in it. There were few times in his life where he got a peaceful night’s sleep since they were so damned rare. 

It was as if his subconscious mind had known he was sharing space with someone more than capable of fighting and winning against his enemies. Someone who could fight _him_ to a stand still. Someone who’d proved themselves to be ruthless when needed. Someone he didn’t need to worry about protecting because he could level mountains with a glance. Someone who’d also fight for Logan with his own life.

Or maybe it was simply having a warm body against his back who smelled familiar. 

No matter the cause, when Logan woke up, he was gratified at the lack of nightmares. He’d honestly expected them after the destruction he’d been picking through considering how his subconscious had reacted after the first day he’d spent on the school grounds, but it seemed his internal demons had given him a break and actually left him alone for the night. 

Instead, he felt refreshed as if he’d spent the whole day relaxing.

The sun hadn’t risen yet, but there was still enough light filtering through the window from the streetlamps for Logan to see Scott sleeping peacefully away on his side, with his back to where Logan had been sleeping.

Logan had picked the window-side of the bed, but maybe not the best choice when he was the first one up as he’d have to crawl down to the foot of the bed, or over Scott to get the hell out. It had seemed like a good idea when he’d first gotten in since the window faced out to a public street. Anything which came through would end up instantly skewered on his claws which was a better than waiting for Scott to take off that stupid sleeping mask thing he wore to bed.

For a moment, Logan entertained the thought of pushing him off the bed so he could get out before dropping the idea. He didn’t actually want start his day healing from whatever injury Scott dished out before he woke up enough to realize it was just Logan being an asshole to him (or have to tell Harry they needed his contractor buddies to stop by again because yeah, they’d blown hole in the wall of his bar). Nor did he want to deal with how shitty he felt just _thinking_ about doing such a thing to his new spouse. Even if it was Scott Summers. 

He quietly got out of bed, old stealth skills coming into play to help move without even shifting the mattress much. Grabbing for clothes, he realized maybe Scott had a point about showering last night. Logan was covered in so much building detritus even after several hours of sleep he still had grit flaking off him.

Also… he now smelled of Scott. And it was actually bothering him by how much it _wasn’t_ bothering him. That more than anything else finally drove him to decide it was time to take a shower.

He didn’t want anyone else with a sensitive nose to start thinking he liked smelling like Cyclops.

*-*-*-*

Even at his speed at getting in and out of the shower faster than most people brushed their teeth, Logan was surprised to find Scott awake and dressed by the time he walked back to the room to put away his soap and towel. He didn’t know much about magic, not having any talent for it, but Rasputin’s spell didn’t have any problem with him leaving the room with some of his stuff as long as he had every intention of bringing it back. So he could take a shower without having to use another person’s toiletries or go out and buy more.

“I thought you’d gone back to the school grounds, already,” Scott said in greeting, his tone polite, as soon as Logan entered the room.

“I’ll go later. There’s things I found that we may be able to use,”said Logan, equally as civil but also feeling damned awkward about it.

“If you don’t have any immediate plans… do you want to have breakfast?” Scott asked. “Together.”

Logan blinked, caught by surprise. “Breakfast?”

“I’ve been thinking of the goals we can set for the team and I wanted to run some ideas by you.” 

For a second there Logan had thought the other man actually wanted to spend time hanging out together. A team meeting between just the two of them made a lot more sense coming from him. 

“Yeah, sure,” Logan agreed, not admitting he also liked the sound of that ‘we’ he kept throwing around. If Scott was actually thinking of Logan as his second-in-command, they may actually be able to make this new X-team work.

*-*-*-*

They had breakfast at a little hole-in-the wall diner who wouldn’t look at them twice. Logan had always liked eating there in the past because the owners never cared much if he’d stopped by for a bite while been covered in bullet holes, or dried blood splatter, or in full uniform, as long as he’d left a damned good tip. So he figured for a couple extra C-notes they wouldn’t care if one of them was the infamous mutant fugitive Cyclops or Wolverine, the supposedly dead member of the Avengers/X-men. 

Logan was brought into Scott’s plans to try to take down Mr. Sinister or Dark Beast at Long Island City. How he wanted to put together a coherent list of goals for the team, such as enemies they could go after in an organized fashion instead of the haphazard way the two of them had been doing it. And how he wanted to use the list as a means for everyone to decide if they were onboard with this new mission or not. 

Logan couldn’t help but approve. Even with the last few days recovering from their captivity at the hands of the Office of Nation Emergency, it wouldn’t be long before everyone started getting cabin fever from being stuck in the bar all day. They had to make the choice for themselves whether they’d stick around and fight alongside Scott – and all the baggage that entailed right now – or if they wanted to strike out on their own. Or, hell, even scrap the entire mission and do something different.

Logan tapped the legal pad where Scott had written a list which began with O.N.E, Dark Beast, and Sinister. “Take O.N.E off. We can’t be seen going after a government agency. At least not publicly,” Logan said around mouthful of steak and potatoes.

Scott frowned down at the pad next to their plates. “You think it’ll be better if we take covert action against them without the team?”

“Yeah, we should keep them outta of it. It's too much heat,” he said. “But I still wanna go after them. Ya wanna bet that the Office of Nation Emergency doesn’t have a few more compounds like the one we took down?”

“No, that’s a sucker bet,” Scott said sighed. He looking about as tired as Logan felt at knowing that mutants never stopped being the target of shady government agencies looking to exploit and control them. “But you’re right about using the others. All it’ll take is for O.N.E. to leak a video or picture of them in an attack against government agents for them to also become public fugitives. Its bad enough O.N.E. is hunting for them, getting civilian authorities involved would make it hell.”

“I can put feelers out for any information on O.N.E. and the shit they’re up to, but those will take time to get back to me. Better to hold off and wait on launching another attack. They’re bound to be expecting it,” Logan explained, before scooping a forkful of the scrambled eggs.

When they’d gone into the O.N.E. compound, he and Scott hadn’t known who’d they find. It certainly had been a lot more X-men than either had expected. So he could understand why the other man wanted to hit up more O.N.E. facilities to see who else they could have in their clutches, but going after the U.S. government was tricky. It was better done as quietly as possible and when they least expected it. While Logan had no problem walking into the meat-grinder of a set trap, he suspected there was no way in hell that Slim would let him do it alone.

And pulling bullets out of him was really goddamned annoying.

Scott nodded, his mouth set in an unhappy line. “Which means they will have moved their mutant captives or killed them by now.”

They exchanged grim and angry looks. Logan couldn’t help growling.

After a couple a seconds Scott took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Okay, let’s focus on the next problem,” he said, tapping on ‘Dark Beast’ and then ‘Mister Sinister’ on the pad. “No matter who else we go after, we’re going to need up to date intelligence. Jamie’s spy network of dupes is good but only if they can get back to us, if they get caught or killed that leaves a hole in the information chain we may not even realize is there. We need other sources to cover any potential gaps. As we are we’ll end up too many steps behind our targets since I doubt our problems are going to stay put in one place for long. Then the only way we’ll be able to capture them is if we get lucky and I’m not exactly willing to rely on luck.”

“I still think killing them would be better solution” Logan said, grabbing one of his bacon rashers to bite into.

“I know you do, but I don’t.”

Logan snorted, hardly surprised the boy scout had that opinion, but letting it go for now. He may sleep fine at night after putting his enemies in the ground, but he was well aware that it hadn’t always been the best choice he could’ve made or that innocents hadn’t gotten caught in the crossfire. He’d often had to deal with the repercussions of his actions, even decades later. The amount of regret he felt... 

He couldn’t blame Scott for deciding he didn’t want to deal out death anymore.

Also, there was a corner of Logan’s mind which couldn’t help but feel pretty damned satisfied by Scott’s choice. Scott has always been the better man of the two of them, a role model to the X-men in ways Logan could _never_ be. Being dead for a while looked like it had reminded him of that, which was exactly what they needed from their fearless leader. When it came killing, Logan being the one who made the choice to dirty his hands was how it should be. He already had a lake full of blood to his name, what did a few more gallons matter at this point?

“What do you think about contacting Valerie Cooper? Jamie said he could get a hold of her,” Scott continued interrupting Logan’s line of thought, before he bit into his egg-white omelet.

Logan wasn’t certain how much Val would be able to help since last he knew she wasn’t involved with the Office of National Emergency anymore, but he did agree they needed more resources than what they had on hand. He could do a lot but as great as Logan was as a hunter, even he couldn’t track down all their enemies with no starting point. At least not without exposing himself as being back alive since he’d have to tap into or owe favors for all the information they would need. Logan wasn’t quite ready to open up that can of worms just yet. They already had enough problems without Wolverine’s enemies also coming out of the woodwork.

“Call her up, she’s less likely to sell us out than a lot of people I can name,” Logan said, after gulping down a mouthful of hot black coffee.

“Good,” Scott said. “Can you be there when she shows up?”

Logan raised his eyebrows in a silent question, his mouth too busy drinking down more coffee.

Scott continued, “I’ll need your ears and nose to tell me if she lies at any point.”

Logan grunted in agreement, set his mug down and ate more of his breakfast.

One idea he was able to contribute to Scott’s grand plan was uniforms.

An intact piece of Shi’ar tech which Logan had found in one of the subbasements was one of the machines which made their X-men uniforms. The only problem was it didn’t have any power running to it – the central power station and the main control room went with the mansion to Central – but he was willing to spend the day trying to see if he could get it working. Because as he’d pointed out to Scott, none of them _felt_ right going into battle as X-men without their uniforms.

And if they wanted to give some visual indicators to keep law enforcement, or any other costumed hero out there, from fighting them due to some stupid misunderstanding then the uniforms would be really damned important. Scott was the one who voiced the opinion that Logan should try to get their older X-men costume designs from the database, if possible. 

Which was an idea so right, Logan felt it deep in his guts. That’s exactly what they needed, the reminder of who and what they’d been before… before M-day, before Utopia, before the death of the X-men at the hands of Nate Grey and Legion. Something which mattered to them even if no one else understood the significance.

But there was one thing Logan had been wondering about the entire time they’d been having breakfast. He asked, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are ya bringing me into your plans?” Logan asked, pointing a piece of bacon at Scott. “It ain’t like ya to share.”

Scott looked down at what remained of Logan’s breakfast, only a single bacon strip at this point. “Isn’t it obvious, Logan? Things are different now. Between us, I mean. We’re married.”

That’s when he realized Scott hadn’t been looking longing at his bacon, but instead had been staring at the wedding ring on Logan’s finger.

“Huh,” he said taken aback, and for the first time he became aware of the fact Scott was actually taking the whole marriage situation between them more seriously than Logan expected. Fuck, he had no idea how to begin dealing with that. So he stood up, pulled out enough money from the cash roll in his jacket pocket to cover their bill and the extra tip before tossing it onto the table.

“I’ll see ya later,” he said and left Scott behind. He tried not to feel like he was running away with his tail between his legs but he wasn’t so blind that he didn’t know that was exactly what he was doing.

“See you later,” Scott agreed quietly, not making any move to stop him.

*-*-*-*

The rest of the day felt like it went by in a whirlwind and not just because Logan spend a good chunk of it fighting with Shi’ar tech to get the damned alien machine to start working. But the sheer number of things which happened made the day rush by, such getting the others on board with Scott’s new mission and getting a win in capturing Dark Beast. Even dealing with the horrible crap of what Dark Beast had done to Multiple Man’s dupes didn’t put much of damper on the feeling they were actually getting some traction in the right direction.

The whole day made Logan forget about his new sleeping arrangements until he was about to head to his room and realized – oh yeah, he hadn’t yet found a replacement mattress. Nor did he know how in the world to go about breaking Rasputin’s spell. It wasn’t like he could threaten Illyana to take it down and have her fold from just a flash of his claws. The young woman had taken over ruling Limbo, a hell dimension, when she’d all but been a kid. It’d take more than the threat of pain or death to get her to do anything she wasn't damn well willing to do. Shit, if he even tried he suspected she’d just laugh in his face.

Or throw him in Limbo to give _him_ a scare.

The only one who probably would have any luck in talking her into breaking her spell would be Scott, considering how she’d chosen to be on his team in the past even when he’d gone full outlaw. But clearly he hadn’t gotten anywhere on that front.

“I’m reserving the right to kill your brother at a later date,” Logan grumbled as he walked through the door to Scott’s room, not bothering to knock. 

Scott was already in bed and ready for sleep since he was stripped down to his boxers, although with a legal pad in his lap and a blue pen in his right hand. No doubt creating lists of things he thought they’d need because he’d always been list obsessed. Once, Logan had even found he’d made of a list of things he wanted to make into lists. At the time it had made him wonder what in the hell had made Jeannie say yes to marrying Scott. A concussion? The man made oatmeal look exciting.

Remembering that moment, the irony of Logan’s currently situation killed him more than a little on the inside.

“If you really want to punish Alex so badly, take him out for some training, but please, no injuries that’ll put him out of commission for more than a day,” Scott said absently, as he focused on the pad in front on him. He sighed and added wistfully, “I really miss the danger room.”

Logan grunted, not wanting to voice the same sentiment even if he agreed. He undressed, dropping his dirty clothes on the floor, kicking them under the bed to keep them out of Scott’s way before crawling over him to get into what had become his side of the bed. He didn’t know if Scott had picked his own side since it was closer to the lamp on the nightstand, out of respect to Logan’s choice of being by the window last night, or because he didn’t think Logan would be back.

Either way, he didn’t seem particularly disturbed – other than a slight uptick in his heartbeat – by Logan having to climb over him to get under the covers.

Logan didn’t even have to say a word before Scott was putting away the legal pad away, clicking off the lamp light before taking off his glasses.

“Goodnight, Logan,” Scott said as he settled his sleeping mask on his face. He then rolled over onto his side, putting his back to him.

Logan grunted into the pillow under his face. Realizing almost as soon as he started to drift off, that Scott had managed to dredge up an extra pillow for himself from somewhere. So why hadn’t he gotten Logan another mattress at the same time? But he was sinking into asleep before he could put the words together as more than a grumpy mumble which quickly turned into a snore. 

*-*-*-*

In the morning, Logan made the executive decision to sleep in since Scott had asked him to stick around the bar in case Val showed up today. She’d only promised to be by soon without giving a set date and time (it was pretty funny how much it was driving Scott crazy). He was too damned comfortable from a second night’s sleep mostly free (having just one didn’t really count with his track record) of nightmares to want to move. Hell, he was even feeling low-key aroused just from how good it felt to get another great night’s rest. Logan woke up enough to be aware of Scott getting out of bed, and opening a drawer to gather his clothes before he left the room. 

Logan rolled into the now empty side, enjoying the warm spot Scott had left behind and stealing his pillow as his own. Even mostly asleep he found himself extending his awareness to track Scott’s quiet footsteps, hearing him enter the communal bathroom to piss, start the shower to let the bar’s water heater have a moment to kick in before undressing and stepping under the water.

Logan was nearly all the way back in dreamland again when the other man returned. 

“I don’t suppose you want breakfast yet?” Scott asked quietly, as he stepped through the door. He smelled of water, soap and shaving foam.

Logan growled, only moving enough to shove his right hand out of the covers with the middle claw extending out, which earned him a low chuckle. Scott dropped off his stuff, picked up the legal pad but left behind what sounded like a full bottle of something – a quick sniff revealed beer – on the nightstand for Logan before he walked out the door.

But now he was fully awake, growing more irritated by the moment but also still distractedly turned on.

“Oh fuck it,” Logan grumbled, kicking off the covers. He pulled down his underwear, licked his palm and got a hand on his cock because he might as well take advantage of the few moments of privacy he had left. It didn’t take much. He knew what he had to do to get himself going.

But it wasn’t until he had cum cooling on his belly that it occurred to him it was probably a damned _stupid_ idea to have come on a bed smelling so much of Scott Summers. He didn’t want his brain to start making dangerous associations.

The whole being married and sharing a bed situation was bad enough.

Logan swore at himself under his breath, cracked open the window to get the smell out and snagged the dirty shirt he’d left under the bed to wipe himself clean. 

He pulled on mostly fresh smelling shirt and jeans, drank down the beer before going to find Scott to get the breakfast he’d offered. Logan ignored how even after an orgasm he couldn’t shake a feeling of annoyance which had settled in his gut. It felt like something new was irritating him, but Logan couldn’t say what in the hell it could be.

*-*-*-*

It took five hours of drinking enough alcohol to kill any non-powered person ten times times over for it to hit Logan as to why he kept wanting to claw anyone who went near him for no good reason (although he still maintained he had a valid excuse to stab Alex but the man was making himself scarce), but also why at the same damned time he had no problem with sitting his ass down well within Scott’s personal space at the bar counter.

Scott had spent all of the previous day smelling faintly of him which Logan had been well aware of but had ignored as much as possible. He’d also had to overlook how often Rahne had kept smirking at him like the scent of him on their fearless leader meant something other than they’d shared a bed. But this morning Scott had taken a shower and washed every trace of him away. 

And Logan’s instincts was damned pissed off by that.

 _Fuck._ Logan stared down at the partially empty brown bottle of beer in his hand in sheer disbelief at his own subconscious mind. It’d only been two fucking days! Okay, three if you counted the day of the damned wedding. But that was nothing! They hadn’t even been spent the last forty-eight hours in the same building for most of that time.

How in the hell were his instincts already starting to think of Scott as being his? And that he should smell like it?

Logan wished Shan’s telepathy wasn’t adversely affected by the transmode virus because he wanted to go into his own mind, find whatever part thought it was a good idea to pull this shit, and kick its ass. Hell, he’d sic the Berserker on it if that’s what it took.

He needed to figure this out if he was going to be spending any more time around Scott. Fuck, he had to get it –himself– under control. He needed some fresh air. Logan stood up to go, causing Scott to look up from his writing. 

“What is it?” he asked, instantly ready to act with his hand at his glasses.

Logan couldn’t help but appreciate how quickly he reacted in preparation for a fight, with no hesitation and no fear. Yet it also worried him. Before their falling out, Scott had never been so high-strung. It made Logan aware in a way that he’d never had before now being a fugitive had affected him. How it was still affecting him. Maybe Logan’s own death had also changed him – made him more aware of what mattered and it wasn’t mindlessly holding on to anger – because he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. It wasn’t easy being on the run from your own government. 

He said gruffly, “Nothing. I figure if Val hasn’t contacted ya by now to say she’s on her way from D.C., then she ain’t gonna show. I’m heading out.”

“If you’re going to the school grounds I’ll go with you,” Scott said, stepping off the bar stool he’d been riding.

Which totally defeated the purpose of Logan trying to get away from him but he couldn’t think of any reason to give to deny Scott from coming along unless he wanted to come off as an unreasonable asshole. Normally, he wouldn’t have given a damn about how he looked, but… fuck, like the man himself had said, they were married now. It was one thing to be a complete jerk to his team leader. It was another thing altogether to be one to his spouse.

Logan _knew_ he was a bastard of the worst sort – he had the gory memories to prove it – but he wasn’t that kind of asshole. So Logan tempered his harsh response to a gentler, “Ain’t like a need a babysitter, Slim.”

Scott’s mouth quirked up. “Maybe I do.”

Logan smirked, unable to help but feel amused. Because that actually came pretty close to why they were both in this mess to being with.

“Fine, but I ain’t waiting for ya.”

Scott nodded. “I’ll catch up. I just want to get a couple of things from the room.”

Logan finished off the beer, only giving Scott the extra time of those few seconds it took him to drink it, before he set off. He pointedly ignored his own clamoring urges. Because now that he knew why he’d been like a bear with a sore head all morning, all he wanted to do was follow after Scott and rub his scent on him so he went back to smelling right. 

Stupid, fucking instincts. Why the hell had they picked him of all people to fixate on? 

*-*-*-*

It wasn’t until they were approaching a wall to the Xavier estate which was nearly klick away from the main entrance when Scott revealed he wanted to see if he could access the Shi-ar computers for mission files generated during the months he’d been dead. That he felt as if he was missing important data he could use from those reports. He’d already debriefed Dani, Alex, Rahne, Illyana, Shan, Jamie and even gotten a hold of Worthington files which covered events that had taken place over the last few months but he really wanted the details from the other X-men. The files were the next best thing.

“Hank has always been paranoid about losing his research, especially after the first time the school was attacked,” Scott explained. “So he created a hard-lined system which would automatically create backup files every hour from the main mansion servers to a hidden encrypted set at the boathouse. I should be able to get the reports from there.”

“I didn’t know about this,” Logan said frowning, as they walked onto the grounds through a side entrance which needed Logan’s biometric readings to open. It had been made specifically for him and it cheered him to no end to see Scott have to duck down to get through it.

“Hank built it long ago. The hardware is all Shi’ar tech, so its not like its needed to be updated over the years. And these days, he more focused on storing the backups on the cloud so he can access it anywhere. I don’t think he even thinks about it much anymore… thought about it,” Scott corrected himself, falling into a subdued silence.

Logan eyed Scott and the dip of his head. You didn’t have to be a mind-reader to guess where his thoughts were at. 

“You’re starting to think Hank and the rest of the X-men are dead, aren’t ya?” Logan said after nearly a minute of silence. “Ya were against it before.”

“I don’t want to believe it,” Scott said quietly but his hands had clenched into fists which belayed his calm tone. “Honestly, I don’t think I can believe it. Nate is many things but he’d _never_ kill Jean, or Rachel or any X-men. Mind-control them, even enslave them… he’s mentally ill and needs help, I can believe that. But killing his family...” Scott let out a slow, controlled exhale and his fists slowly relaxed. “Yet I have to consider the possibility. I think the others need me to.”

“Better to prepare for the worst,” Logan grunted in agreement. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand Scott’s denial. To have lost so many people, so many of their friends and teammates at the hands of fellow mutants was a destructive blow. Especially after all the struggles they’d all faced over the years, knowing it had been one of their own who brought them to ruin was almost too much to handle. The comparisons to M-Day were unavoidable. It had to be all the worse for Scott considering one of the causes, Nate Grey, was also his son. 

“Yes,” Scott agreed flatly.

They got to the point in the path where it split with one direction heading to where the mansion had stood while the other went to different locations on the grounds and eventually the boathouse by Breakstone Lake. 

“I’ll find you when I’m done,” Scott continued, clearly putting the conversation aside as he moved on to his next task. 

“I’ll be at what remains of the secondary garage,” Logan said. He kept his senses tuned towards Scott and as soon as he knew the man was out of range, he turned away from the direction of the school’s foundations to another destination. 

It wasn’t like he thought Scott would have protested Logan stopping by Jeannie’s grave. But there are just some things he didn’t feel like sharing with him. Ever. When he felt like talking to Jean was one.

Logan reached the small graveyard mostly full of Xaviers before finding the grave by the prettiest tree in the place. He settled in front of the gravestone with the legend ‘Jean Grey-Summers. She Will Rise Again’.

“Hey Jeannie,” he said softly, gently putting down a bundle of wildflowers he’d picked on the walk over. Once he wouldn’t have given a grave much attention. What was dead stayed dead and a rotting corpse wasn’t worth wasting time over, it was only empty meat. He rather reminisce over a bottle of whiskey. But Jean always broke the rules of what was possible and had changed him even on this.

“I know I’ve given ya a lot of shit over the years about your attachment to the boy scout. Including asking ya more times than I can count as to why ya married the guy,” he thought about this morning and how the walk over hadn’t shaken him of the desire to grab Scott and well, rub himself on him to scent-mark him. 

“Wherever ya are right now… please stop laughing.”

He pressed his forehead against the cold stone and knew with bone-deep certainty if Jeannie could hear him, then there was no damned way she’d stop giggling anytime soon.

“Also, I hope ya can forgive me for stabbing Cable, ‘cause I’m gonna claw up your son next time I see him,” Logan grumbled, pulling back from the gravestone. “It was his stupid idea. So if you’re at all inclined to be mad about this mess then be sure to blame him, would ya?”

Not that he believed Jean would be angry at him over having married her husband. No, he thought that after she finished laughing herself sick, then she’d be teasing Logan about it.

Hell, he’d never hear the end of it. He sighed heavily, but had to admit that he was kinda looking forward to putting a smile on Jean’s face, even if it was at his expense.

“I don’t know how in the fuc- freaking hell to deal with this,” Logan confessed, holding up his left hand so the silver ring gleamed bright in the sunshine. “This ain’t something I ever considered, especially not with him. What in the hell should I do, Jeanie?” 

He didn’t even have to wonder more than a couple of seconds about how she would answer before he knew _exactly_ what Jean would want. Like Cable, Ruth, Layla and what seemed like every mutant still around, she’d want him to look out for Scott Summers, especially since she couldn’t. But more than simply playing bodyguard and keeping Scott alive, she’d want Logan to actually care for him. To be there for him, really be there as a friend, and not just sticking around because Logan’s honor demanded he keep his promise to a dead girl.

As he sat there before Jean’s grave Logan had to finally acknowledge to _her_ , even if he’d been resisting admitting it to himself, that he wasn’t simply staying put because of the promise he’d made to Ruth.

He stayed now because as long as that wedding ring remained on Scott’s finger then Logan wasn’t going anywhere.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t until a mix of the darkening sky and his belly rumbling empty pulled Logan out from concentrating on repairing his bike that it sunk in that if he was relying on Scott Summers to be the one to call it a day while the man had reports to read then he would be twiddling his thumbs waiting for him to finish well into the next sunrise. He remembered the kind of study/planning sessions which Scott had done in the past and winced.

Or hell, even longer than next morning.

Logan would already have called it a day a couple of hours ago but he’d been waiting for him to show like he said he would.

Grumbling to himself and wondering how in the world Jean or Emma had dealt with this bullshit, because it was annoying the crap out him, Logan went to go drag Scott out of the boathouse. He wanted to head back to the Hideaway so they could get some dinner before it got too late. He’d been having a craving for BBQ and there was a Korean take-out place in town he liked which delivered well into the evening but they didn’t keep their kitchen open past 9 PM.

It wasn’t until he was nearing the boathouse when the fresh scent of Alex Summers drifted to his nose. Logan stopped and breathed in deeper. Other than Scott, there were multiple layers of Alex’s smell around along the path leading to the boathouse, telling Logan he’d been there on different days.

“So this is were you’ve been hiding,” Logan snarled low, grinning savagely to himself. He still hadn’t forgiven much less forgotten the shit he’d pulled. As he got even closer to Breakstone Lake, he didn’t need enhanced hearing to begin picking up Alex’s raised voice. 

“I don’t trust the choices you’re making! First getting married after you’ve just come back from the dead and to Wolverine of all people. You know you can’t depend on him! He’ll run back to the Avengers the moment Captain America crooks his finger.”

“That’s an issue between me and Logan,” Scott replied. “And it’s settled.”

“With the marriage? You really think the leash will hold?” Alex snorted in disbelief. “It isn’t just that, though. What about this idea of taking Dark Beast prisoner? We can’t keep him in a bar of all places. He’s too damn dangerous! Then on top of that you’re making us public, that’s really going to make everything worse for any mutants trying to keep their heads down. Your choices haven’t been the best in the past – they’ve barely been sane – and they don’t look to be getting any better, Scott!”

Logan growled low, so riled he’d instinctively popped out his claws, but he forced them back in because he wasn’t actually ready to gut Alex in front of his brother. 

But what the hell was his problem? It wasn’t like Alex had said this shit in the aftermath of getting rescued from O.N.E. which had been helluva riskier mission considering they’d fought against the U.S. government, but suddenly the actions of their fearless leader where questionable? Was he that goddamned mad Scott had married him? Or was something else altogether? He sure hadn’t been nearly as critical with him when Slim had been running about as mutant revolutionary.

With a loud crack, Logan angrily yanked open the door of the boathouse, uncaring of how he tore the door off its hinges. 

“What the hell?” Alex shouted as he spun to face him, fists up.

Scott, who’d instinctively fallen into a defensive stance with a hand at his glasses, straightened up at the sight of Logan. “Am I late?” he asked mildly, as if that was the only reason a furious Logan would have barged in on them. 

He decided to roll with it. “Yeah, then I heard the _shit_ your brother is spouting.”

“Stay out of this Logan, this is a family discussion,” Alex snapped, his hands clenched into fists. Scott looked back at his brother, frowning. 

Logan grinned, making sure his sharp eyeteeth were bared. He lifted his left hand up so the back of his hand faced Alex, letting him get a good look at the silver ring. “I _am_ fuckin’ family.”

Logan’s gaze may have been locked on Alex but he could out of the corner of his eye he saw Scott’s head snap over to him. And even if he hadn’t seen Scott’s reaction to his words, he sure as hell heard the impact it had with Scott’s startled inhale and change in heartbeat. It had skipped a beat and now was pounding away at double speed. 

He ignored it, but tucked Scott’s reaction away to think about later. Logan slowly extended his left hand’s claws. “And I owe ya a gutting anyway, bub.”

He saw and felt Alex gathering energy, his sensitive ears picking up the whine which was too high for most people to hear as the other mutant focused on drawing on his powers. The temperature of the room started climbing and his hands began glowing white. Logan prepared himself to dodge the plasma blast and jump at him with both claws out.

Then Scott stepped right in between with a wide-spread palm out to each of them. 

Logan eyed the wedding ring so close to his face and had to wonder if it been deliberate on Scott’s part. Fuck, knowing how the man used every tactical advantage he could get? Yeah, he’d done that on purpose.

“Damn it, Scott, why can’t you see marrying this guy was an insane idea? He’s a bloodthirsty killer,” Alex said, still gathering his power so the glow’s intensity increased but but making no other move.

“I can understand your anger at me, Alex,” Scott said, his tone firm. “A lot more than I understand your anger at him. Logan hasn’t done anything to you to warrant it. If anything he’s the one who has every reason to be angry at _you_. You’re the one that broke into his room, stole and destroyed his property. You wouldn’t have tolerated that from any of our teammates so you can hardly expect Logan to tolerate it either. It wasn’t just or right what you did and you _know_ it.”

Alex opened his mouth, no doubt to protest about halfway through his older brother’s admonishment, but closed it without a word as Scott continued.

Seeing Alex wince filled Logan with schadenfreude. There was always something deeply satisfying about hearing an unrelenting Cyclops-tier scolding when he wasn’t the one in the crosshairs.

Scott continued, “When you’re mad at me, you bring it to me. You don’t take it out on the others, or on my husband.”

“If he has a death-wish he’s welcome to try,” Logan corrected, even as he felt part of his brain make a brake-screeching sound at hearing Scott call him _‘my husband’_. He tried not to show how much those words had rattled him. He kept his teeth bared at Alex but asked Scott, “I take it I ain’t allowed to disembowel him?”

“No,” he said unequivocally. “But you’re right in saying he owes you and not only an apology.” Scott turned his head so he was facing Logan. The corners of his mouth twitched up. “Any requests?”

“Still wanna hurt him,” Logan admitted, although his anger had mostly subsiding into lingering amusement at how horrified Alex looked.

“How about you take Alex out for training for a couple of days. We have no set missions. So you can put him through a workout. A Wolverine-level workout,” Scott offered. “Think that’ll do the trick?”

Logan could feel his savage grin widen even more as Alex paled. “Yup, that’ll do.”

“Good,” Scott said. He turned his head towards his brother. “Its settled, Alex.”

Logan could see how much he wanted to protest in the swift micro-expressions which crossed his face. Alex was a team leader in his own right, hell, he’d been an Avengers team leader, and it had to be needling his pride to bow to another person’s judgment. But like Scott himself had said, he knew he was in the wrong.

“Okay,” Alex said grudgingly.

*-*-*-*

It wasn’t until Scott and Logan were out of the Xavier Estate when Scott asked, “Did you mean it? About us being family. Or did you just say it to provoke my brother?”

Logan eyed him, taken aback by how hopeful Scott sounded.

“Yeah, I said it to mess with him,” Logan said truthfully. Scott’s disappointed exhale would have been nearly inaudible to anyone else but it rang loud in Logan’s sensitive ears forcing him to admit, “But it ain’t a lie.” He held up his left hand so they could both get a good look at the ring. “This thing means we’re family.” 

Hell, it been true even beforehand. Being X-men meant being family. It was just… being married but a different spin on the whole thing between the two of them. Logan may have thought going in that it was an utter lie – Scott, himself had been pretty dismissive of the entire idea – but he couldn’t deny that it was changing them. The rings tied the two of them closer together than they’d ever been before, even when their friendship at been at its best. 

Logan knew it was changing him every day. It was like being married was forcing Logan to see Scott in a different light, making reevaluate how he reacted to the man, changing patterns of behavior which had been established between the two of them over the years.

Even Logan’s instincts no longer reacted like he was facing an alpha challenger whenever he saw Scott. It had been something he’d fought over the years – he wasn’t a damned animal – sometimes barely keeping it under control and at other times having it on tight lockdown. But instead of wracking his nerves and making him feel like he should be gearing up for a fight... now when he caught sight or scent of Scott his instincts chanted: Mine. Mine. Mine.

The slight smile Scott gave him in response made Logan’s thoughts taken off in a different direction. 

Logan considered the effort Scott had been making in the past few days. Giving him a place to sleep even when it involved sharing his bed, inviting him to breakfast every morning, defending him against his own brother and even asking for his input on the mission for the team. That was the real indicator of effort Scott was making to mend things between them, considering how recently (at least according to their memories) they’d been at odds – hell, at war on Logan’s part – with each other. Protecting the X-men was more sacrosanct to Scott than anything to do with his own comfort. And Scott had not only trusted his advice, he’d listened and adjusted his plans accordingly.

Maybe it was time _he_ took a stab at working on their relationship instead of leaving all the heavy lifting to Scott.

Logan rubbed at the back of his head, feeling oddly nervous, as he asked, “Hey, if you’re hungry, how’d ya feel about picking up some Korean BBQ? My treat, Slim.”

“You know a place?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty damned good too.”

The smile he got this time lightened Scott’s visible face and it reminded Logan that there was a good reason why so many people called him pretty boy. 

“Alright, I could eat.”

*-*-*-*

Logan didn’t know whether to blame his visit to Jean’s grave, or the echo in his head of Scott claiming him as his husband or even his own damned possessive instincts but that night instead of staying still as he slept, like he had he last couple of nights, he full out invaded Scott’s side of the bed.

It was still fully dark when Logan woke to find himself with his nose buried in Scott’s right armpit, his right arm sprawled across Scott’s bare abdomen with his hand spread on his chest so the beat of Scott’s heart thumped steadily on his fingers. Not only that but Logan’s leg was between Scott’s own and his semi hard-on was digging into Scott’s hip like it had every right to be there.

“Damn it,” Logan hissed low, angry at himself for taking liberties. He was about to move away when it struck him that it wasn’t the approaching sunrise which had woken him this time, it was still a couple of hours away. Instead it was the fast pace of the heartbeat under his palm. _Fuck._ “This is why I really should’ve take the floor,” he said grumbled, more than a little embarrassed to have been caught.

“Logan, we’re married,” Scott replied at once, his voice gentler than Logan expected. 

“That ain’t the answer to everything,” he protested. And before he could pull away, Scott pressed his own right hand over Logan’s hand on his chest. 

“In this case it is. What do you want?”

The question was enough to get Logan’s own heart pumping. He didn’t know how much Scott’s nose could pick up on the sex pheromones drenching the air. But Logan could smell it all and the only arousal he sniffed out was his own.

Fuck, he was more disappointed than he expected.

If Scott didn’t want this then Logan wasn’t about to ask.

He growled low and moved to pull away, but Scott rolled and ended up on top of him, his forearms bracketed his head while his body pinned Logan down. Not so much that Logan couldn’t have gotten free if he tried, but enough to keep him from moving for a second. 

“Get –” Logan barely managed to say when Scott’s mouth landed on his lips with pin-point accuracy.

Again, Logan was thunderstruck, utterly unable to move at the feel of his mouth under Scott’s lips. He had his hands buried in Scott’s hair and was kissing him back before he even made the conscious decision to do so. 

Scott opened his mouth and Logan indulged in tasting him, sweeping in his tongue. 

That’s when he started to smell Scott’s rising arousal in the air. His pheromones brightened the dark room in a way Logan’s own hadn’t. Logan’s mouth felt ten times hotter. His heartbeat was picking up a faster pace and even the underwear he had on was too much clothing. Fuck, even his cock was wet. 

Scott broke the kiss as he pulled back to ask again, this time with a raspier voice, “What do you want, Logan?”

“Dammit... I want you,” Logan admitted, feeling as if the admission had been torn from him from a dark place, deep inside his mind. Like it was something he’d always felt but refused to acknowledge.

Scott kissed him again, and Logan moaned into it. Fuck, a turned on Scott Summers smelled really, really good.

It felt like it should have been a revelation, but it wasn’t. It was like he’d been fully aware this entire time of how tempting Scott smelled but had never allowed himself to think about it. Well, he had no excuse not to be fully aware of it with Scott on top of him.

“Want to fuck you,” Logan said, pulling back to bite at Scott’s neck, then his bare shoulder.

“Oh,” Scott’s heartbeat kicked up. And if Logan had thought Scott wasn’t into the idea, the growing erection he could feel pressing against his leg cleared up any doubts.

The embarrassment he smelled off Scott made Logan pause. “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to have sex,” Scott admitted. “I don’t have any supplies.”

He didn’t either. Logan groaned but also couldn’t help chuckling. “Damn it, Scott, really? You’re gonna lose that boy scout title if you keep dropping the ball.”

“Shut up,” Scott grumbled. “You hate me, I wasn’t expecting-”

Logan’s amusement died and he had to press his hand to Scott’s mouth to stop him talking. Scott’s head tilted slightly in silent inquiry. Logan swallowed. “I don’t,” he said quietly. “I don’t hate ya, Scott.”

He didn’t need his heightened night vision to see Scott’s answering frown, Logan could feel it against his palm. Logan wished he wasn’t wearing the sleep mask but the ruby-quartz glasses so Scott could see his face and how much he meant his words.

“I don’t,” Logan insist, feeling desperate to get Scott to believe that he wasn’t married to a man who hated him. He tried not to think of what it meant on Scott’s end that he was perfectly willing to have sex with him thinking Logan hated him. 

“I know I say it a lot. Helluva more than I should,” Logan continued, growing frustrated with himself over his meager explanation. “But that’s usually my anger talking. I don’t hate ya. I wouldn’t have kissed ya if I hated ya!”

Scott sat back on Logan’s hips and pulled Logan’s hand away from his mouth. He said quietly, “I believe you.” His heartbeat was steady, not a hint of a lie in his words but to Logan it didn’t feel like he’d explained himself well enough. His explanation was so damned inadequate. He owed Scott more than that.

Fuck, he’d even told Scott he hated him right before they’d entered the wedding chapel, hadn’t he?

He was such an asshole.

“Next time I tell ya I hate ya, blast me with your eyes to remind me to stop talking stupid shit,” Logan asked, turning his hand in Scott’s own so he could grip it. He was angry at himself but trying to keep it out of his voice so Scott wouldn’t think he was mad at him. If he’d ever thought for a moment they would end up here… fuck, he still would have been a jerk because he would never have believed it.

Scott’s chuckle made Logan start to relax – nowhere close to forgiving himself but he was kinda used to that – yet willing to let it go. “I’ll consider it,” he said smiling. His head tilted to the side as he asked sounding hesitant, “So, um, do you still want to have sex?”

Logan’s hard-on had flagged a bit, but the sight of Scott relaxed and with his erection clearly visible through the cling of his boxers fixed that pretty damn quickly. 

“Yes,” he growled. 

Scott’s cock twitched. The smell of arousal spiked in the air.

Logan’s hungry grin felt damned predatory, even to him. “Like that did ya?” Scott’s reaction certainly put an interesting twist on the fact Logan’s growl had never scared him all that much. Had it always turned Scott on but he’d been too self-controlled to show his reaction? 

Curious about the answer Logan growled again, it was low, hungry and – to any normal person – damned dangerous.

Scott made an almost pained pleasure gasp at the back of his throat which took Logan’s breath away.

“Fuck,” Logan managed to say after a moment.

For the first time during this entire conversation, Scott’s cheeks reddened and he dipped head as if he was trying to hide his expression. 

“Just keep talking,” he said, flushed. 

Logan almost made a sardonic comment about Scott being too used to having telepaths in his head but thought better of it. He didn’t want the shadows of Scott’s past lovers in bed with them right now.

“What do ya want to hear? How fuckin’ good ya smell right now?” He moved Scott’s hand and pressed it flat against Logan’s bare chest so he could feel it when he breathed in deep. He also made it loud enough for Scott to hear it. Let him feel it as his ribs moved. “How I can smell how much you’re turned on right now? So thick in the air I can taste it? It fucking makes me hard. Do ya feel it?” He slid Scott’s hand slowly down his chest, letting his feel his skin, the hairs and muscles of his abdomen before getting under the elastic band of his boxers, past the wry public hair to the heated humid skin of his hard cock.

Scott’s lips parted as he also inhaled, as he if was trying to smell and taste it too. 

“Logan,” Scott said with want thickening his voice even as his long fingers circled Logan’s erection. His head tilted with silent interest as he pulled back Logan’s foreskin to get to the wet crown of his cock.

Logan groaned again and couldn’t help but kiss him, stretching up even as he clamped his left hand on Scott’s neck to get him to bend into it. Scott’s free hand caught himself on the mattress, keeping him from falling onto Logan.

Logan hungrily drove his mouth against Scott, licking at his soft tongue until he began kissing back with equal eagerness. Scott’s hand remained firm on Logan’s erection. Just knowing it was Scott’s hand on him had beats of pleasure shooting up Logan’s spine making the crown of his cock steadily bead out pre-cum.

Fuck, his balls ached to come.

Scott was forced to release Logan’s hard-on to use both of his hands to keep from falling completely on Logan. 

Logan missed his hand at once, but the press of Scott’s firm stomach was a nice consolation prize.

He didn’t pull back from the kiss until they were both panting. 

Logan rasped their stubble together, as he went in for another kiss, pulling back to groan in disbelief, “How do ya even taste fuckin’ good?”

Even with the dim lighting of the room being a result of the street lighting, Scott’s wet lips were visibly lush red to Logan’s heightened vision. The teasing curve of them as he smiled was a revelation. He said, “Clean living.”

“Not for long, gonna make ya filthy, Scotty,” Logan promised, sliding his mouth down to Scott’s throat to bite it again. He got his hands on Scott’s ass and squeezed, digging his fingers into the firm muscles.

Scott’s gasped even as his hips ground down onto Logan. 

Logan was annoyed by the underwear separating them so he cut them off himself and Scott with a flash of a claw. Scott had stayed perfectly still, his heart not even spiking at the sound of the SNIKT. 

Logan pushed Scott back until he was sprawled at the foot of the bed. Kissed him again. Stopped to bite his tempting neck a couple more times (gloating more than a little at the bloom the older bites were leaving on his skin) before settling in place between Scott’s spread legs. Had to stop to sniff, bite lightly at the arc of Scott’s hip, drifting down to lick his balls before swallowing down Scott’s cock. He moved down slowly letting him feel the slide of Logan’s mouth while keeping his right hand on the root of Scott’s hard-on, while the other lingered along the sensitive inner skin of Scott’s upper thighs.

“Logan,” Scott groaned out, sounding disbelieving as his hips thrust up into Logan’s mouth. His right hand gripped Logan’s hair tightly for a moment before his fingers relaxed but staying on Logan’s head. Scott gasped as Logan pulled off to lick the head of his cock. 

A wicked thought occurred to Logan. Smirking and enjoying the fact that Scott couldn’t currently see it, Logan swallowed down Scott again, sinking down until his nose was brushing against his pubic hairs. 

Then he growled. 

The yell which Scott let loose as he came wasn’t really muffled much by his hand.

He kept his mouth on Scott, until the man was almost whimpering from over sensitivity before he pulled off and sat back.

Scott looked wrecked.

He was a sensory feast to Logan’s enhanced senses. The look on Scott’s visible face, the smell of sex on his skin, the moans still falling from his lips, how he’d felt coming into Logan’s mouth and the lingering taste of his bitter semen on his tongue nearly tripped Logan over the edge. Only taking a quick grip on his cock stopped his orgasm. 

Logan couldn’t stop the grunt which made it past his lips.

“Lo– Logan,” Scott said, getting up on his left elbow as he reached blindly out. “Come here.”

Logan greedily swallowed away the taste of Scott on his tongue before he got close enough for Scott to grasp him arm. But instead of letting Scott reeled him in, Logan pulled Scott towards him, using his strength to pull him up onto his knees. Then he wrapped his right arm around his waist to pull Scott tight against him. 

Fuck, Logan wanted him.

Scott held him tight, kissing him with a fervor which stroked Logan’s ego. 

“I wanna to see your face,” Logan rasped out, when Scott pulled back. He pressed his left hand to Scott’s face, letting him feel the wedding band before sliding his forefinger underneath the sleep mask until he brushed Scott’s eyelashes with his fingertip. 

Scott froze. 

He could see Scott consider rejecting his request. Logan didn’t say anything letting Scott think it through without pressuring him, or reminding him he couldn’t actually kill Logan if he slipped up. The man knew all this.

“Alright,” Scott finally said. 

Slowly, Logan took the sleep mask off, feeling like he was stripping Scott naked in a more personal way than he had by taking off his boxers.

The dim flicker of red light which leaked through the seal of Scott’s eyelids was a reminder the destructive power the man contained. Logan didn’t care. He was more distracted by being able to see the whole of Scott’s face.

He’d seen it before, of course, but practically every single time it’d happened in the past it had been against Scott’s will, from losing the visor, having his powers stripped away, or when Scott deliberately removed any ruby-quartz barrier from him and an enemy he intended to obliterate. Seeing him willingly bare-faced and naked was Scott exposed in a way which Logan had never been allowed to see before right now. 

“Damn.”

The shy smile on Scott’s lips was so damned dangerous.

“I wanna fuck your mouth,” Logan continued, then admitted, “I wanna come all over your face.”

“I can do that,” Scott said, smile widening as he sank down back on the bed.

The feel and the sight of his cock in Scott’s hand as the man pulled back the foreskin so he could put his mouth on Logan was too overwhelming. Logan had to throw his hand across his eyes just to keep from coming right then and there.

But it just concentrated the feel of Scott’s hot, wet mouth on him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He had a wild thought of wondering what in the hell the man had been up to over the years to have become such a good cock-sucker before deciding he didn’t actually want to know. There was the too real possibility he’d become murderous towards any man who’d gotten to enjoy Scott’s mouth in the past. 

The feel of Scott’s firm tongue against his cock, the grasp of Scott’s hand on the root of his hard-on, it all became too much. 

Logan panted for air. He pulled his hand away. He needed to see, to fucking burn into his memory the sight of Scott Summer sucking his cock down. 

And so he did, memorizing the crinkle between Scott’s forehead as he concentrated. The sounds he was making like he was enjoying himself. That he actually was fucking enjoying going down on Logan. 

Hell, he _smelled_ like the was reveling in every second of it.

Fuck, it was too damned much.

Logan tugged at Scott’s hair in warning.

Scott pulled off and tilted his head back in silent invitation. 

“Scott!” Logan groaned and came on Scott’s face, hitting his checks, lips, chin and neck. Droplets of semen hit up to his closed eyelids and eyelashes, and down to Scott’s chest.

Logan sank back at the bed, overwhelmed and amazed at the sight of his cum all over Scott Summers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fans self*


	5. Chapter 5

Logan lay next to Scott on the bed enjoying the after-glow of a great orgasm as well as the sight and smell of droplets of left over semen smeared enticingly all over Scott’s chest – which Scott has managed to miss while cleaning up his face – as well as the bite marks on his neck and shoulders. It was incredibly distracting how good Scott still smelled to his nose.

It made a curl of lust unfurl in Logan’s gut, but he merely coasted on the feeling, enjoying it without pursuing it.

Scott’s thumb was rubbing the ring on Logan’s finger, occasionally drifting up to rub at the sensitive skin between his knuckles were the claws cut through when they slid out before returning to the silver ring.

After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, Logan had to ask him the one thing which had been bugging him for the last few days. Too mellowed up to work up any irritation which is what he’d normally would have felt, he asked, “Why did you give me those divorce papers?”

“The divorce papers?” Scott frowned in confusion. He shifted his bare face towards Logan. “I thought you’d want them.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You didn’t want to be married in the first place. I know Nathan talked you into it, I thought… well, I’d thought you’d want to have the option of ending it whenever you wanted. I know you hate feeling trapped and I didn’t want you to feel that way while married to me,” Scott explained. Questioning, he cocked his head to the side. “Was I wrong?”

When put in those terms it actually made sense Scott would think it was a good idea to give him signed divorce papers. It meant it was Logan’s call on when, or even if, to end it. But the timing….

“No,” Logan admitted but grumbled, “You’re still a jerk. You could have waited a day.”

The confusion on Scott’s face was actually kinda funny even if it made Logan want to groan into his hands at the reminder that while the man was a fucking genius at reading a battlefield he was also at times a stupid disaster with interpersonal matters.

Exasperated, Logan tried to explain it in terms which hopefully sink into Scott’s thick head. “On the day you married Jean, if you’d given her divorce papers, how in the hell do you think she’d have reacted?”

“Oh,” Scott said after a moment. His mouth dropped slightly, looking stunned. He swallowed down hard, the gulping noise pretty loud in the quiet of their room. “She wouldn’t have liked it. Not at all.”

Logan could barely believe he’d gone and consummated his marriage to this dumbass.

“I think she’d have ripped ya a new asshole,” Logan snorted, satisfied that Scott had finally bought a clue. He had been starting to think he’d have to beat it into his head. He popped a claw on his right hand enough for the SNIKT sound to be audible. “Ya came damn close with me too, ya know.” 

“I didn’t realize,” Scott said apologetically. “I’ll make it up to you, Logan.”

With a SNAKT the claw sank back into Logan’s knuckles and deep into his forearm. “Ya better. I ain’t no telepath. Ya gotta tell me this shit and not just assume I know what the fuck you’re doing.”

Hell, even when they had gotten along in the past they’d been prone to occasional miscommunication. If they did such a thing now? Logan didn’t even want to think of the potential catastrophic outcome. There was too much hanging in the balance for such dumb and elementary mistakes. Logan was too aware that they’d skipped more than a couple of steps. Yeah, he and Scott knew each other, trusted each other, fought together and against each other, but neither of them had ever worked on a relationship between them that was this intimate before.

“I’ll remember.” Scott’s voice was serious as he added, “But I’m not the only one who plays it close to the vest.”

“Yeah,” Logan agreed reluctantly. The problem was that they were both two men who weren’t exactly the sharing sort, especially not with each other. Logan could be just as bad, if not worse than Scott, at times when it came to talking. Dammit, it was just easier to reduce a problem to shredded pieces with his claws then it was to open his mouth and share his feelings. “Guess we both have things to work on.”

But first to put them on more even footing, Logan reached under the bed and pull out the manila envelope. Then he began to shred the papers into confetti, uncaring he was leaving debris scattered like snow all over the bed, floor and Scott. 

Scott’s head tilted to the side at the sound of ripping paper. “Why are you tearing them up?”

“I don’t need ‘em,” Logan explained. Yeah, maybe going in he had felt a little trapped. Yet Scott’s plan had worked in the sense that Logan never felt _forced_ to remain married to him. Hell, if he’d been at all unwilling he’d have been out the door and miles away before they’d ever left for Las Vegas. He had felt strong-armed going in though. So knowing how the papers had been intended to take the pressure off made him belatedly appreciate Scott’s gesture, but he didn’t need them anymore.

Alex may have called their marriage a leash on Logan but it wasn’t one. Being married to Scott had become... well, a safety net is the only way Logan could think to describe it.

Not only for Scott – like Cable had insisted – but for the both of them. Logan saw the truth of it now. Over the last couple of days he’d become more settled. The only times he’d felt like this in the past had been when he’d carved out a piece of territory in the wild that was all his. He felt that same sense of satisfaction and _home_ but in this case his ‘territory’ was walking around on two legs and had a will of his own.

His smug instincts didn’t seem to care about the difference.

“Ya wanna get divorced? Ya tell me,” Logan continued, deadly serious. He ignored how his own instincts howled in protest at the idea. Fucking stupid instincts didn’t get a say only Scott had the right. If the man wanted out then he was out. “I’ll give ya the papers that day.”

“The same goes for you,” Scott agreed. His hand reached out and settled on Logan’s shoulder, sliding up until he stopped on his nape with his fingers curled into Logan’s thick hair. His forehead bumped against Logan’s own, then he kissed him, long deep and wet before pulling back. Logan couldn’t help but breathe him in, enjoying his taste, and the feel of him on his skin.

Solemnly, Scott added, “I know I’m not the easiest person to live with. If I start making _you_ miserable –”

“I’ll tell ya too,” Logan said, satisfied they were understanding each other. 

Unspoken in the entire conversation, but understood by the both of them – at least Logan hoped so – was the certainty that they _wanted_ to remain married to each other. 

Willingly, and not only because the fate of the world was at stake.

*-*-*-*

Logan was craving a cigar so he decided that both he and Scott could use a little space from each other for a moment. Also knowing exactly how much Scott hated the smell of tobacco, Logan decided to head up to the roof to enjoy a long smoke and take the time to think about what it meant that he was – for the foreseeable future – going to be the husband of Scott Summers. The potential trouble which Logan could see coming from his friends and allies alone threatened to give him a headache even with a working healing factor.

Hell, Logan already knew he’d leave bleeding out on the floor anyone who tried to get in between them. Scott’s current status as mutant revolutionary fugitive was the biggest problem. Logan wanted to think about what kind strings were available for him to pull, because there was no way in hell he’d let Scott spend another day in jail if the man happened to get caught. 

Also Logan needed to think of the fallout on his own reputation once it was known he’d married Scott Summers. Not that he gave any actual fucks, but Logan couldn’t deny that being an Avenger and in the goodwill of the public had opened doors for him that simply being an X-men hadn’t been able to do. He didn’t know how much of those resources he would be able tap. He was prepared to use every tool his toolbox on Scott’s behalf, but he had just had to think of the best way to go about it.

Not bothering with a shirt, Logan snagged up his jeans, a whiskey bottle he’d tucked under the bed, and the cigar case he kept in the duffel bag. On the way up the stairs, he kept an ear open to Scott – whose neat freak ways had finally taken over – hearing him getting into the shower. Logan made plans to get his scent on him at some point today so his instincts would quit whining in protest.

Logan expected to find Illyana on the roof, having heard her heartbeat out there but also because, of course, he couldn’t get a moment’s peace in this crowded place. She was sitting on one of the cheap plastic white patio chairs Harry left out for those wanting a break from the downstairs clamor when the bar was in full swing and open for business. She was curled up the chair with her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared up at the east sky. She looked like she was waiting to see the sunrise, which according to orange color change beginning in the sky, and Logan’s own instincts, was going to be any minute now.

Logan snagged a chair away from her, moving it to the ledge nearest to the public street. He considered putting out his cigar before deciding if it really bothered her, Illyana would have no problem telling him to put it out. He doubted she would. The young woman was used to the stench of hellfire. A bit of tobacco smoke had to smell like heaven in comparison. Since she didn’t speak a word of protest as he lit up with a strike anywhere match he ignored her, focusing instead on enjoying his cigar and drinking down some Johnny Walker between puffs of smoke. 

So he had every fucking reason to pop claws and swipe when she silently came out of the opposite direction where he’d seen her to crouch down next to him, staring at his face with a disturbingly wide smirk.

Illyana blocked the blow with the soulsword, still grinning like the Cheshire cat with gleaming blue eyes. Delighted, she said, “You broke my spell.”

“Damn, Rasputin, I could have taken your fool head off!” Logan shouted. 

Illyana repeated, “You broke my spell.”

“What the fuck are ya talking about?” Logan asked, confused and annoyed. 

“You had sex with Scott Summers,” Illyana said, gleefully. She leaned over, sniffed Logan and her smile widened a bit more. “Yup, he’s all over you.”

Logan knew he had the bad habit of underestimating how much odor a non-heightened nose could pick up but he didn’t think it was that obvious. He harrumphed, “Don’t know what ya mean.”

“Banging our fearless leader was the only way to break my spell,” Illyana clarified. “You had sex with Cyclops!”

Logan winced. “Shouting it from the rooftops ain’t exactly how I want the world to find out, so tone it down will ya?” He frowned. “That’s how ya keyed your magic. Damn that’s cruel, kid.”

Illyana sat down the a chair next to Logan, carelessly tucking the sword between her jean-clad legs, point first into floor. He knew the mystical blade wasn’t so easily damaged, but the swordsman in him still hated seeing it so badly mistreated.

“You’re newlyweds,” she explained, as if that was the only reason that mattered. Illyana shrugged. “I’d figured you’d give in to the sexual tension at some point.” Then she pouted, pointing her soulsword at Logan.

He eyed it warily. 

“Although, you could have waited three more days so I could win my bet against Rahne. She kept saying you’d be giving in before even a week passed. I thought you’d have more self-control,” Illyana complained. “Now you owe me double.”

“I don’t even owe ya one, Rasputin, much less two,” Logan grumbled around his cigar. Illyana’s Cheshire grin returned, and Logan tried not to think about one of the many famous quotes attributed to that literary cat: ‘We’re all mad here.’ It felt entirely too appropriate when applied to the X-men.

“You _know_ that’s not true.” 

The hairs on the back of Logan’s neck stood on end. He ignored how the look in her eyes brought back memories of hell. He pointedly shifted his gaze out to the dark sky which was beginning to lightened. He wasn’t about to talk about his sex life with the kid. “Ya out here to enjoy the sunrise? Ya don’t strike me as the type.”

“Sunrises are pretty, you don’t get them in Limbo but I like the stars more,” she said, letting him change the subject but still smiling, clearly not about to forget the conversation anytime soon. “And right now, I’m waiting.”

“For what?” he asked, swallowing down another mouthful of whiskey before taking a slow puff.

“For your kids to show up.”

Logan barely kept from choking on the cigar. “What?” he sputtered, smoke coming out of his mouth and nose. Laura had been with the X-men in the attack against Nate Grey and Legion. Wildly, he wondered if Daken had already tracked him down. He hadn’t gotten a sniff of his son around town but that didn’t mean shit– 

“I’m waiting for future Howlett-Summerses! Or is it Summers-Howletts?” Illyana asked thoughtfully. “Are you guys even hyphenating?”

Logan actually did choke this time. He wiped at his mouth and shot Illyana a look of disbelief. “What kids?”

“Between Scott Summers’ tendency to have fully-grown children from the future, or alternate universes, stop by for a visit and your habit of leaving your DNA all over the place and having surprise kids who usually want to kill you, we have a pretty good chance of having future Summers-Howletts – hmm, it doesn’t exactly roll of the tongue – stop by any minute now.”

Logan had to put down his whiskey and leave the cigar smoldering on the roof ledge to bury his face in his hands for a few seconds too overcome with both relief it wasn’t actually a problem and horror over the too real possibility which Rasputin had brought to his attention. 

His enemies _would_ take the knowledge of his marriage to Scott to twist it against him. They were the kind of evil assholes who’d thought it would be fitting to make assassins out of his own flesh and blood. They’d done it in the past, more than once. Daken was the only surviving example but hardly the only one. Logan knew as long as he was alive there was a damned good chance Akihiro wouldn’t be the last to suffer such a fate.

When the knowledge of his marriage to Scott Summers begins filtering out into the world, Logan didn’t doubt for one moment those people out there who hated him with soul-choking vitriol wouldn’t hesitate to try to hurt him with it too. And not just with any potential kids… Scott would also be a target. 

The only reason Logan wasn’t more concerned about his safety was because he trusted the man to be able to look after himself on that front. Scott had spent years fighting powerful bastards who wanted nothing more than to murder the leader of the X-men and none had ever succeeded. Hell, it had taken Terrigen Mist – which had come from allies – to take him out. For someone who didn’t have a healing factor, or tough skin, the man could take a lot of punishment and get up to dish it right back. So in a fight against assassins Logan counted on Scott to get out of it alive.

But what did worry Logan was how’d Scott would react if it was their own flesh and blood as their attempted murderers. That’d be enough to throw any person off their game, even a master tactician of Scott’s caliber.

The thought made the Berserker stir in the furthest corners of his mind.

_Fuck._

“I figure there’s about a fifty percent chance they’ll be here to try to kill us. Another forty they’ll be here to help out and about ten percent they’ll stop by just to say hello,” Illyana finished off. She poked the cigar he’d set down with the sword before picking it up and taking a small testing inhale. She hummed in delight and puffed away until smoke trailed out of her toothy grin, making her look like a manic dragon. “I think you should just name the kids Summers. They actually seem to have more luck in staying alive than most X-men. Or is it just the Grey in them?”

Logan guzzled down the whiskey and left the empty glass bottle on the ground before getting up, taking the cigar back and stabbing it out on his palm before stalking away from the blonde. He may have wanted a moment to get his head together away from Scott but this was too damn important to wait. 

“Ooh, can I be their godmother?” Illyana called out excitedly after him. “I promise not to steal their souls or feed them to demons!”

He ignored her.

*-*-*-*

Considering the live grenade Rasputin had tossed at him, Logan had no choice but to pass it on to Scott to deal with. He couldn’t even think about it. He just couldn’t. So he waited for him in their room, sitting on their bed with his head in his hands trying not to get lost in memories which made his stomach roll with nausea.

“Logan, I thought you were taking smoke break on the roof. What’s wrong?” Scott asked as soon as he walked through the door, bring in the scent of clean water, soap and _him._

Logan huffed out a humorless laugh and looked up. “I found Rasputin up there. She brought up something to think about.”

Filling in him on the entire conversation only took a moment. What lasted longer was the silence between them as Scott processed it. A reaction which made Logan think that even Mister-Plans-for-Every-Situation hadn’t considered this possibility. 

With both their histories of having assholes mess with their DNA it was too damned likely someone would decide to make children with it. Even if any offspring wouldn’t be created yet, with time-travel in the picture they could be dealing with this problem tomorrow. Hell, more than any other living X-men, Scott would understand.

Sinister was still free for one.

“If that happens then we deal with it,” Scott finally said, looking about as shaken as Logan felt. 

“No, you don’t understand, Scott, I can’t –” Logan said, stopped and tried again. “If they do come after us to kill me, to kill us… I’ll be damned useless. I can’t kill –” He couldn’t say it. Fuck, his hands were shaking. “I won’t kill ‘em,” he finally got out through gritted teeth.

“I’d never ask you to,” Scott said at once, sounding startled by Logan’s words. He knelt by the bed and caught Logan’s broader hands in his own. 

“Do you trust me?”

Logan shot him a look a disbelief. “What the hell kinda question is that?”

Scott’s mouth flattened out and his entire body stiffened. For a man who always maintained a certain level of unflappability – aided by the ruby-quartz glasses – the deep hurt across his face would be obvious to anybody.

“Of course, I fuckin’ trust ya,” Logan growled, deeply annoyed the other man didn’t know the truth of that by now. “Do ya think I’d have stuck around for one second if I didn’t? Do ya think I’d have agreed to marrying ya if I didn’t? I would’ve stabbed Cable the moment he brought it up and gotten the hell out of dodge, if that’d been the case. I trust ya! Stop being a fuckin’ idiot!”

His answer softened the lines of Scott’s face visible from under the ruby-quartz glasses. Gently, he said, “Then trust me to deal with it.”

Logan was shaking his head before he even finished talking. “No, I can’t let ya do that. Any blood should be on my hands not yours,” he insisted. Yeah, the idea of fighting and killing anymore of his kin filled him a horror which shook what was left of his soul but it was a gruesome sin he was already steeped in. There was no fucking way he’d let Scott experience such an abomination. The dismay Logan felt simply entertaining the idea of Scott being forced to kill his own children was too deep to put into words.

Scott was too good of man and a loving father to all his surprise adult children.

It would shatter him. 

He’d been suicidal after Xavier’s death but if he killed someone he’d consider his own son or daughter…at least Logan had a chance of surviving the aftermath.

“Logan, I wouldn’t kill them,” Scott reassured him, his thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto Logan’s trembling hands. “I’d come up with every possible plan I could to capture them. Even if we’re attacked by hybrid clones or future offspring, programmed to assassinate us today, I’ll have plans stop them without killing them or even hurting them too badly. Trust me to do it.”

The determination which rang Scott’s voice was so strong that Logan couldn’t help but believe him.

Overwhelmed by relief at the thought such a horrible situation wouldn’t end in more of his own kids’ blood on his hands and even more unbearable regrets and nightmares piled onto him, Logan was only able to breathe. In that moment, the last pillar of anger Logan hadn’t even known he was still holding against Scott crumbled away. 

Once Logan felt like he’d gotten a hold of himself again, he caught the collar of Scott’s t-shirt in a fist and dragged him close for a kiss. He was just so damned grateful that he’d known exactly what to say to keep Logan from losing his fucking mind at only the _idea_ of such a situation.

As Logan kept kissing him and feeling Scott kiss him back, he had the realization what while he wasn’t in love with him yet, right here, right now? He could see the path which would take him there. He’d be so goddamned in love with Scott Summers, with all his flaws, virtues, and those habits that drove Logan nuts, that unless he did something to break them up there would be no going back. 

Logan would be as deeply and madly in love with Scott as he’d ever been with anyone else in his long life.

Almost as startling was the certainty he _wanted_ to get there.

As if he hadn’t had enough emotional upheavals in the space of only a few minutes Logan was hit with the revelation that he’d never been angry at Scott over treating teenagers like soldiers, escaping from a corrupt prison or even being a mutant revolutionary. Hell, he’d told him he didn’t even blame him for Charles’ death and that was still true.

No, his anger at Scott had come from a more personal and selfish place. 

Somewhere over the years since Logan had joined the X-men and made the choice to follow Scott’s leadership in the field, he’d gone and set the man on a pedestal. Not a typical one, where he’d worshiped the ground he walked on or any such shit. But one where Logan admired his ethics, thoughtfulness, willingness to lead from the front, and incredible self-control, essentially everything which made Scott a boy scout and nothing like Logan. 

His example made Logan want to _be_ that kind of man. So he’d come to expect Scott’s leadership to be flawless. It’d been made all the worse by how expertly Scott had handled Osborne and even those fucking vampires. He’d been amazing.

Logan hadn’t even realized how much he’d relied on Scott to be perfect and omniscient until the man had let him down by being making mistakes. By being only human. 

It hadn’t been kids being forced to fight and kill which had sent him running from Utopia, but rather his anger at how Scott hadn’t been able to see the situation coming to avoid it. That he hadn’t been able to stop a giant Sentinel from approaching the island in the first place. It had been too much like Genosha all over again. Preventing that from happening had been the whole fucking point of X-force and why Logan had agreed to run an assassination squad. 

Logan had believed.

He had so much faith in what they’d built. That Utopia would work and that they’d finally, finally had a sanctuary for all mutants which would last but _only_ under Cyclop’s leadership and responsibility. Because the man was smarter than practically everyone on the planet at being able to handle threats to mutants. Then Scott had failed them by not being better. 

Failed Logan.

And Logan hadn’t been able accept it as anything less than a complete and personal betrayal, turning everything about Utopia into a lie.

Shaken all over again by this truth about himself, Logan knew that if he began relying on Scott to be the only one to carry all the decision-making burdens and be responsible for everything it could put Logan in the same position all over again. Logan had been exhausted at maintaining his anger at Scott over hypocritical shit even before he’d taken a bath in molten adamantium without a working healing factor. That anger felt all the more petty and pointless while Logan wore the ring symbolizing his marriage to Scott. He didn’t want to be that asshole again.

“How’s about we work on those plans together, Scotty?” Logan offered, as soon as he broke the kiss. 

“You want to start now?” Scott offered, his head already turning to seek out his damned legal pad and pen.

Derisively, Logan snorted, pushed Scott down on the bed, and started taking off his clothes. He really wanted to get his scent all over Scott’s skin. “Sex first, plans later.”

“But that would cut into –”

Logan smothered Scott’s protests with his mouth, having years before figured out that the only way to get him to have any fun was not to give him a moment to protest against it. Anyway, he started smelling of arousal pretty quickly which told Logan he wasn’t that against them having sex again.

Still, the man usually knew what he was talking about when it came to making plans. Logan pulled back to double-check. “It really can’t wait?”

Scott panted under him, his eyes locked on Logan’s own through the glasses, then he licked his lips. Logan followed the path of the tip of Scott’s tongue, riveted. 

“It can wait,” Scott admitted.

“Good,” Logan said hoarsely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading comics during the whole 'Cyclops Mutant Revolutionary' arc really made me fall in love with Illyana. So I could NOT resist adding in her brand of crazy.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was fully up in the sky by the time Logan was able to pull himself away from Scott. It took a lot of willpower and not just because sex with him was so damned good. It was, but it also had the unexpected bonus of making Dark Beast yell in torment as Logan’s hearing had picked up coming from the basement a few times. It amused Logan to no end and it really motivated him to pull out loud moans from Scott’s throat.

Of course Scott and Logan also spent time discussing plans in the after-glow. The endorphins making it easier to discuss the terrifying prospect of kids made with their DNA.

The best plan they both liked involved playing bait to any assassins which showed up. Logan would be able to tell from his or her – or their, as Scott seemed convinced that no foe would ever risk sending only one assassin after Logan – scent if they were related to them then he or Scott would lead them to Illyana. She was probably the fastest way to stop any attack from someone they didn’t intend to kill or hurt, if at all possible. Even a super-powered killer wouldn’t be able to do much if she tossed them into Limbo for a while.

Satisfied they had a solid plan one, Logan felt that he could leave the work of any successive plans to Scott. Although he did demand to be read into them when he made it back to the Hideout. 

It was time to torture Alex with some training Wolverine style. Logan wanted to catch him at the boathouse when he wasn’t expecting it. 

*-*-*-*

It was the late afternoon when Logan left the Xavier estate with a satisfied vicious smile on his face. The memory of the pained whimpers which had come from the lump of bruises he’d left on the dirt named Alex Summers was one that he’d cherish for a long time to come, especially when Alex was being an asshole. Logan had left him alive with no broken bones, and all his guts in the right place. Scott couldn’t ask more of him than that.

As he got closer to Salem Center, Logan decided to pick up lube and condoms since he knew Scott wouldn’t have gotten around to it. He wouldn’t have gone out to a public place like a store since there was too great of a risk that someone would recognize the infamous mutant revolutionary leader. Hell, knowing Scott it probably wouldn’t have occurred to him to ask anyone else to pick to pick up some supplies either.

On the way back to the bar, Logan decided to run a perimeter check. As much as the conversation he’d had with Scott had settled a lot of his worries in regard to potential future assassin children. Rasputin had managed to completely set off his paranoia. Or it could be the realization Logan had had about how easily he could fall head over heels for Scott and that he was more than halfway there already. 

It made Logan feel like the marriage between them had turned as real as if he’d gotten down on one knee to ask Scott to marry him. 

Which honestly scared the crap out of him in ways Logan would never admit to a living soul. And not just because marrying, or hell, even dating Scott had never occurred to him (at least he could admit to himself that he had thought about fucking him) because now that he was in it, he was actually feeling happy. This made Logan paranoid like not even Rasputin had managed to do. He was too aware that when he was actually feeling good with his lot in life that was the moment his enemies showed up to destroy any bliss he’d managed to cobble together. It was at this point that they killed his lover and threw him into a blinding rage which brought out the Berserker.

So to settle down and reassure himself that he had nothing to worry about, Logan began to cover a long spiraling path across all of Salem Center which would end inward at the Hideout. He kept out of sight with every skill he’d learned over the years while keeping his senses extended for trouble.

Barely two miles from the bar he caught on the breeze the too familiar smell of lead, gun oil, and cordite. The sheer amount of it in the air told him it wasn’t just a single person carrying a gun around. What he was smelling was a damned armory. 

He sniffed the air. And a lot of men to carry those weapons.

Silently snarling, he tracked the scents down to the source. 

Logan found an entire platoon had set up shop in a previously empty store-front, turning it into a base for the Office of National Emergency. He couldn’t get close with the sheer number of cameras, and various detectors covering the place. Hell, it looked like the base was also covered with telepathic shields which weren’t exactly common even among the military. They weren’t being stupid. He wouldn’t be able to get close, at least not without a high risk of getting caught in the act so he stayed out of sight on a nearby rooftop at the end of their sensor net. 

If he’d been the only one in danger from O.N.E. he wouldn’t have given a damn of the consequences and gone after these assholes to leave them as bleeding meat on the tiled floors. 

But as the silver ring on his finger kept reminding him, Logan had more than himself to think about.

So he stuck around, staying put until he was satisfied with the amount of intel his hearing picked up. Then he took circuitous route back to Scott, making sure to keep an eye out for any tails he may have picked. Only once he was one hundred percent certain he was in the clear did he make a beeline for the Hideout.

Cyke needed to know that O.N.E. was in Westchester.

*-*-*-*

“I need to talk to ya,” Logan said, slipping quietly up to Scott at the bar counter. Surprisingly, the man actually was drinking. A quick sniff revealed the drink as bourbon whiskey. 

_Fuck,_ now Logan knew how damned good the combined scents of whiskey, Scott, and the lingering smell of morning sex on Scott’s skin were when mixed together. It made Logan more than a little hard, and reminded him of the supplies currently burning a hole in his jacket pocket.

“Drowning your sorrows?” he asked, distractedly. It wasn’t like Scott to drink alone and none of the rest of the team were around. A focus on his hearing let Logan know that Dani, Shan and a Madrox – dupe or Prime, it was impossible to tell – were keeping an eye on Dark Beast down in the basement. Rahne was taking an early evening nap, snoring away in the room she shared with Illyana. Speaking of Rasputin, she was on the roof going through some sword forms with interesting footwork. Or was she dancing?

Okay, those footsteps were not the patterns to any kind of sword forms he’d ever heard of before so she was definitely dancing.

The smell of Alex was strong in the air of the bar but Logan couldn’t sense him anywhere else in the building, so he had to be back at the boathouse. Eyeing Scott, he had to wonder what new shit Alex had been telling him without Logan around to stop it. Hell, maybe he hadn’t pounded him into paste as much as he should have. 

“Just thinking… Alex had some good points as to why I shouldn’t be leading again. Maybe its too soon,” Scott said, staring down at the drink in his hand. “Maybe I should step down, let someone else take over.”

“Ya really think that’s the best idea? ‘Cause I don’t.” Logan frowned. Next time he wouldn’t be so merciful with his brother-in-law. Scott didn’t need any help in doubting his past actions. Logan had already gotten an earful of it before they’d rescued the others. He was annoyed as hell that Alex had sent Scott back into this mental morass. He’d already done enough self-flagellating on this topic, he didn’t need encouragement to start that shit up again.

“Alex isn’t wrong about questioning me on the decisions I’ve made,” Scott answered, anguish shading his voice, although Logan could hear him struggling to keep it out. “Or about me being a liability and not just to other mutants out there, but to the team.”

Logan snorted derisively. “Ain’t like he would’ve made any better calls. Hell, I’d bet he would’ve made worse ones.” He eyed the slight slump to Scott’s shoulders and the tumbler of whiskey at his hand. He didn’t like the idea of Scott developing the bad habit of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism. For one, he didn’t have a healing factor (when you factored in all the shit which X-men saw all the time that would mean Scott would quickly head for liver cirrhosis) and for another, Logan did enough drinking for the both of them in this marriage. So in that spirit, he stole the tumbler away and drained it. 

Scott let him. 

“Ya know what I think?” Logan asked, setting the empty glass down and sitting down on a bar stool on Scott’s right. He had to resist the urge to lean into him. Then he realize it was fucking stupid to fight it when he was both married to the man and was having sex with him. So he leaned in until he was all but plastered against Scott’s side with an arm around his slim waist. He was pleased when Scott accommodated him by resting his arm on Logan’s shoulders. “I think ya been listening to Alex too much. Your ideas are good ones. And it ain’t like the others didn’t know going in ya don’t have the best publicity right now. They joined in with ya with eyes wide open. So give them credit for making that choice on their own.” 

“You haven’t always liked my decisions,” Scott said, frowning. 

“I haven’t, sometimes ‘cause I’m an asshole,” Logan said frankly, too aware of his own tendency toward making snap judgments. And Scott, more than anyone else, had always caught the brunt of Logan’s temper. Remembering the various ways he’d acted towards Scott made Logan wince at the memories. “And ya know when I get it into my head that I’m right and you’re wrong it ain’t easy to shake me out of it.”

“I’m aware.”

“Of course, you’re not really any better,” Logan warned, narrowing his eyes threateningly. Because he may see now how misplaced his anger at Scott had been in the past but some of the points he’d brought up had been valid ones. Not to the point of breaking the X-men apart, or justifying how badly he’d treated Scott in the days which followed. Logan knew he’d have to make it up to him somehow. 

The ring on his hand reminded him of how important it was the he actually take the moment to settle their past at some point with something solid instead of just ignoring it as if it had never happened. Scott seemed to be willing to let the past go, but Logan couldn’t. He knew too well how unresolved problems could come back around to bite him in the ass. He didn’t want to leave those kind of emotional landmines strewn about.

One badly placed step and it could blow them up and apart all over again.

“Which is why we end up fighting a lot,” Scott agreed, his lips quirking up. 

“Yeah, so ya can trust me when I say that even when I’m pissed as hell at ya I’d rather ya were making the calls. I’m not the only one who feels that way. Stepping down from leadership ain’t gonna change that,” Logan explained. “If anything without ya at the helm, we’re likely to lose more X-men.”

Scott’s slight flinch would have been easily overlooked if Logan hadn’t been so tightly pressed against him. Scott looked at him, even though the ruby-quartz glasses, Logan was damned certain his eyes were locked on Logan’s own.

“Just answer me this, those decisions that you’re talking about? Would ya have changed them? Really?”

Scott looked away from Logan and down at his left hand. He began rubbing the wedding ring with his thumb. “What do you want me to say?”

“How about what ya really think, instead of what ya think I want to hear?”

“I believed in the reasons for the choices and actions I took in the past to keep us from going extinct, there’s nothing I regret,” Scott said slowly. “And I don’t think my motivations were wrong for getting out of that prison. There were mutants who lived through their powers manifesting because I was there to step between them and danger. There are mutants who died while I did nothing. But how I went about it… it could have used more thought and less anger.” 

“On both our parts,” Logan cut in, thinking about how he’d bitter and angry he’d been during that time.

Scott glanced up, his ruby-quartz glasses flickered with red light, as he silently inclined his head. “Its not just Alex’s words I keep going over but also what happening now. Would so many be taking the mutant cure if I hadn’t frightened them so much?”

Dryly, Logan said, “Don’t fool yourself, ya could have been a fuckin’ saint and they still would be taking it.” He considered the piece of vital information on the mutant cure that Cable had shared with him but hadn’t wanted his father to know. 

Fuck it! If Cable hadn’t wanted Logan to spill the beans to his dad then he shouldn’t have talked them into getting married in the first place. Logan would have been perfectly fine keeping secrets from his team leader – he understood need-to-know – but from the person he’d married, not so much.

“Anyway, it ain’t like the cure is gonna matter much in the long run,” he continued. 

Scott froze in place, so still that Logan couldn’t even hear him breathing. “What?” he finally asked, shaken.

“Cable said the mutant cure would start failing.”

“When? How? Why didn’t he tell me –”

“Hey, hey,” Logan interrupted. “I didn’t get the details, only that it would. There ain’t anything we can do about it. Even Cable didn’t know when it would start going to hell.” 

“This changes things,” Scott said, straightening in his seat, turning on the bar stool to completely face Logan. His heart was pounding away at a faster rate. To Logan’s eyes, it looked like a heavy weight had been taken off the man’s shoulders. The lack made it obvious how much the knowledge of what the mutant cure was doing to mutants as a people had been weighing on Scott’s mind.

Shit. Logan had thought he’d only been dealing with the loss of the others. If he’d known this was adding to Scott’s burdens, he’d have said something a helluva lot sooner. 

Logan added in a gentler tone of voice, “Don’t go making plans just yet. I figure there’s a damned good reason Cable didn’t want to let ya know. Pretty sure ya ain’t supposed to be doing anything.”

Scott frowned for a long moment before he breathed out a controlled breath. “You’re right. There probably is a reason Nathan didn’t want me to know.” He huffed, shook his head and shot Logan a brilliant smile which took his breath away. “I may not be able to do anything, but knowing that there will be more of our people in the world is great news. I thought we’d face going extinct all over again. This is incredible news.”

“You can’t let the others know,” Logan warned. “Not even your brother.”

“No,” Scott nodded, turning serious again, his incredible smile dimming. “It’ll compromise whatever operation Nathan is trying to see through. I know.”

Logan nodded in acceptance, trusting Scott’s word. Whatever Cable had planned, Scott wouldn’t risk jeopardizing it.

“Speaking of your brother? Ya should know he’s just lashing out,” Logan said, because he actually did spend some time talking to Alex as he’d been putting him through the wringer. Enough to put some pieces together about why he’d been acting like a jerk. “Yeah, he’s mad at ya, but he’s madder at himself so he ain’t exactly thinking straight. He blames himself for turning the others so easily over the O.N.E. and getting them all tortured for it. Ya just happen to be an easy target.” 

It also had explained why Logan had gotten caught up in the middle of the Summers’ nonsense. It wasn’t only due to marrying his brother behind his back, Alex had wanted to push Logan to the point where he started fighting him. This habit of using Logan to punish themselves was a Summers’ trait which he wasn’t happy with at all although not to the point of starting to pull his punches. Alex had fully earned his ire, after all.

“You really think that’s the reason? He thought he was doing the best for the team considering their infection with the transmode virus,” Scott said, startled. “The others don’t blame him at all for trying to get them treatment.”

“When has guilt ever been logical? Ya saw how he was when we were about to ‘port out of there. Damn angry, murderous and practically suicidal.”

Scott’s head dipped. Somber, he said, “I remember.”

“Ya want my advice on how to deal with this entire thing?” Logan waited until Scott nodded before he continued. “Being tortured and experimented on is bad enough, but also losing Strong Guy? Guido was one of theirs and they didn’t get the chance to bury him. Everyone needs a break. A real one, not just resting until their physical wounds heal while their mental ones are still bleeding out.”

Scott needed one too. The man could get injured so badly he’d need life saving surgery and he’d still insist he was fine as soon as he was awake. Suggesting that maybe throwing himself back into the task of being an X-man when he’d been dead about a month ago with all the trauma implied, and while he was still struggling with accepting the death of his friends – not even at the point of mourning them yet – would only lead to Scott shutting down that line of conversation.

Fuck, Logan himself still didn’t know how to begin grieving for the loss of so many friends. He wasn’t any better at dealing with it than Scott was right now. But unlike Scott, he also knew he’d be able to get past it at some point. Too many years living had taught him how.

Logan didn’t know if he was willing to test to see if being married to the stubborn ass would be enough to get through Scott’s insistence that he was perfectly fine. Even his adamantium claws had never succeeded in breaching those walls in the past. Their marriage – no, this entire change in their relationship was so goddamned new that Logan was still trying to figure out his footing.

Did he have the right? Would Scott even listen?

Logan clamped his eyes closed, called himself a goddamned coward under his breath and made the decision to push.

“And they ain’t the only one,” he said gruffly. 

“You also need–?” Scott began, surprised.

“Damn it, I’m talking about ya, Scotty!” 

“I’m fine,” he said automatically. 

Logan snorted derisively at how he hadn’t even taken a second to think about it. “I’m sure ya think so, but here ya are telling me that ya think stepping down as team leader on a mission ya created is a good idea. That ain’t like ya at all. So don’t try to tell me you’re fine. Ya also need time away from the fight.” Logan cursed as he remembered he hadn’t updated Scott on O.N.E. He grimaced and admitted, “Well, after one more fight. Emphasis on O.N.E.” 

Scott took the news with his usual calm, although the flatness of his mouth kept throwing Logan off track. He’d never realized how goddamned _present_ the man’s lips were when his eyes weren’t available as clues to what he was thinking. And knowing exactly what it felt to kiss them? To have his cock between those lips? It just made them all the more distracting. 

Dammit, he needed to get it together and pay no attention to his stupid instincts which insisted now was the perfect time to get Scott into bed. Shit... this getting turned on at the drop of a hat was just becoming embarrassing. He wasn’t a stupid teenager with no self-control over his libido. 

He was lucky Rahne wasn’t around to sniff out the sex pheromones he had to be filling up the bar with. Again.

“But I don’t think they actually know we’re here, at least not yet,” Logan said, ignoring how he was growing hard by memories of having Scott’s mouth on him. He had self-control, dammit. “I heard them them talk about other teams in San Francisco and in New York City.”

All places which had functioned recently as X-men bases.

“That may work in our favor,” Scott’s said absently, his free hand rubbed on the stubble on his chin and his gaze dropped to the bar counter as he thought. Logan took a second to appreciate how hot he looked as he planned, his brilliant mind racing away.

Fuck… they were technically newlyweds so having sex three times in one day was hardly excessive, right? 

“Take me to them,” Scott said, to Logan’s disappointment over the loss of plans which had been building in his head. “I want to see what they’re up to.”

*-*-*-*

A sniff had proved the rooftop he’d used before was safe as no one else had been up there since Logan had left. So Scott and Logan had returned to it since it far enough away from O.N.E.’s makeshift camp to stay out of sensor range but close enough they could spy on them. Scott had wanted more details than what Logan had picked up so they were there to gather any additional intel which he could use to plan their next move. 

“Don’t know what more ya expect to learn, Slim,” Logan said, sitting next to Scott (he’d found a pair of binoculars from somewhere, reinforcing his title of boy scout, to Logan’s amusement). After nearly two hours, all Logan’s enhanced hearing had caught were some of the O.N.E. agents grumbling over a basketball game they were following on a tablet, an argument over takeout and a couple of assholes comparing and rating the last few women they’d dated. There was so little movement from the base that Logan had been able to leave to get him and Scott a couple of sandwiches for dinner and when he’d returned the same stupid conversations were still going.

It was all so boring that Logan was starting to think again about how much he wanted to fuck Scott. 

Before they’d headed out Logan had been relived that seeing Scott in his X-men uniform calmed down his wish to have sex with him. He hadn’t wanted to be distracted in a middle of a fight over how fucking skintight the uniform was on Scott’s body. That was the way to get teammates killed. 

Okay, it didn’t completely get rid of his desire. Scott still smelled stupidly good to his sensitive nose and Logan’s instincts definitely wanted him to do something about it, but he also had a deeply ingrained habit, of many years of fighting under Cyclop’s leadership, of tuning out distractions. Logan was downright conditioned to be in a battle mindset when the X-men leader was in the field. That made it easier to ignore his lingering lust. If he was too busy leering at Scott then he couldn’t look out for him. Knowing how often Scott got targeted in a fight, since smart fighters knew taking down the one who made the calls was Tactics 101, Logan tried to keep an eye on him to tackle him out of danger.

Considering the recent change in their relationship, Logan thought he’d feel more driven than ever to stick close to Scott. Hell, he’d expected to become downright overprotective but weirdly enough his instincts weren’t triggered by the potential danger of being so close to the O.N.E. agents. If anything there was a ball of smug satisfaction in Logan’s gut at having Scott at his side, which didn’t make any sense to him at first, until he realized that his feral side _really_ liked having a hunting partner.

There weren’t many people out there who could keep up with him. Not only did Scott have the skills and experience to be his equal, but his calmness and long-range force beams complemented Logan’s close-range fighting abilities – even his tendency to lose his temper – damned well.

“I want to make certain we didn’t miss anything,” Scott answered in a low voice. “That they’re targeting locations tied to the X-men only feels like part of the story. New York and San Francisco make sense since the X-men have plenty of allies and could find sanctuary in those cities. There aren’t exactly a lot of friends to be found in Westchester County. We got lucky with Harry.” 

Logan frowned at him then his eyes widened. “Ya think ya drew them here.” His eyes narrowed. “And that they’re coming after ya.” Logan gritted his teeth and barely kept from shouting. He hissed, “And what? You’re lookin’ for ways to throw yourself at ‘em?”

The Berserker stirred at the thought at these assholes putting one hand on _his_ lover. His _husband._

He’d fuckin’ kill them.

“Not exactly,” Scott said calmly. He pulled the binoculars away from his visor. To Logan’s growing annoyance he actually smelled surprise as he took the angry expression on Logan’s face. “We may not have a house here anymore but Westchester is home. I want them out of here. If it’s me they want –”

Logan flashed out his right hand, and grabbed Scott by the front of his uniform. He dragged him down until they were nose to nose. Scott’s heart jumped as he inhaled in surprise. 

“No,” Logan intoned dangerously. It took all his fraying control not to rattle Scott in his grip until the stupid martyr tendencies fell out. 

Scott frowned at him. He said, like it was perfectly reasonable, “If I’m taken prisoner that may be the fastest way to find another O.N.E. facility then –”

“No!” Logan snarled. He actually gave in to his frustration, giving Scott a shake. “They can also put a bullet in your head or disappear ya into a black site that’ll take me weeks to track down, if you’re lucky. Or hell, even sell ya to the highest bidder who wants to torture ya to death.” Logan had seen shadier things done – especially to mutants – by government agencies with tight budgets (fuck, the stuff he’d heard rumored that Osborn wanted to do to Scott was chilling). 

“It ain’t worth it.” He pressed a biting kiss to Scott’s parted lips to prevent whatever protest the man was going to say, ignoring how the ruby-quartz visor dug into his skin. It took a couple of seconds but Scott kissed him back, slowly, as of trying to calm him down. Surprisingly it worked, Logan’s temper began to cool down from thunderously angry by the time he pulled back to let Scott pant for breath. 

However, the kiss wasn’t enough to stop Logan from growling right into Scott’s ear, “Ya make me a widower again and I’ll never fuckin’ forgive ya. Think of something else.”

“Okay,” agreed Scott, sounding distracted. The smell of Scott’s sex pheromones in the late evening air drained the last bit of Logan’s anger. Scott licked the bottom of his lip, chasing the taste of Logan in his mouth. “I don’t think we’ll learn anything new. So let’s head back to the Hideout.”

His words were calm, but Logan could practically feel Scott’s hungry gaze on his skin.

Fuck, he was becoming hard again. He grinned, showing his fanged canine teeth. 

“Race ya.”

“First we have to get safely away from here,” Scott corrected, glancing over in the direction of their enemies. 

“Fine, ya get a two minute head-start,” Logan agreed, conceding to the kill-joy reality of where they were. “If ya pick up a tail, I’ll take care of it.”

Without hesitation Scott moved, racing to the edge where a fire escape led down to the street. He moved acrobatically down to the alley, moving so lightly on his feet that even Logan barely heard it.

Logan gave him a minute before he went after him. 

Well, he’d never given Scott any promises he’d play fair.

*-*-*-*

Even with his enhanced senses, and over a damned century of experience at tracking, it took Logan until they were back at the bar before he caught Scott, tackling him flat against the wall of the alley behind the Hideout. 

“What took you so long?” asked Scott, smiling down at him.

Fuck! Had Scott _let_ himself get caught? Oh, who the hell cared, (although it did needle at Logan’s pride as tracker even if as he was damned impressed by how Scott had outmaneuvered him during the chase), what mattered was that he was under his hands, exactly where Logan wanted him. The chase had gotten both of their heartbeats up. Scott had broken out in faint sweat which combined with the smell of his arousal made Logan ravenous. He caught him by back of his neck. Scott bent down willingly so Logan could kiss the pleased smile off his lips. Scott gripped Logan’s jaw, tilting his head up so their mouths met perfectly. 

The wet heat of Scott’s mouth, the slickness of his soft tongue, and the smoothness of his lips sent sparks of pleasure down into Logan’s guts, heating him up, and making him hard enough to pound nails. He was damned glad he knew exactly how Scott’s uniform came together so it was a work of seconds for him to get his free hand past the yellow belt.

Getting his hand on Scott’s cock, and feeling the wet of pre-cum at the tip with his thumb made both of their heartbeats jump. Scott’s breath came out as a strangled gasp in his throat which vibrated into the air. Sensitive to the sound, Logan shivered as sparks shot up and down his spine making him more aware then ever as to how Scott was sensory feast to Logan’s enhanced senses. 

“Gonna fuck ya tonight, Scotty,” Logan promised his voice low, nearly muffled against Scott’s lips. But he knew Scott heard it when he moaned louder than before, and parted his legs for Logan to settle in. 

They were so wrapped up in each other Logan didn’t even acknowledge the opening the bar’s backdoor as anything more than a mild annoyance.

“Please don’t have sex in the alley,” said Jamie from the doorway. “Because if you get arrested for indecent exposure I’m not bailing you guys out.”

Logan pulled back from Scott, growling at Madrox and a dupe standing next to him. Both had a hand clamped over their eyes. A third dupe behind them tossed Scott and Logan two thumbs up.

“Boo! Why’d ye have to interrupt as it was gettin’ good, Jamie?” called Rahne from the roof.

Scott and Logan glanced up to see Rahne and Illyana grinning down at them from the ledge.

“This alleyway is getting way too fuckin’ crowded for my tastes,” grumbled Logan, annoyed at all of them. Okay, he wasn’t gonna stab them because he and Scott were out in the open, but if one more person showed up to keep him from getting into Scott’s pants… he swore he was gonna go berserk.

“I’d say get a room but you two already have one,” a Madrox pointed out, as the trio slipped past them and walked down the alley.

With pink cheeks, Scott said in a strangled voice, “Right.” He straightened up and readjust his uniform, closing up the bits which Logan’s hands had found and opened up. They both ignored the groans of disappointment from the rooftop peanut gallery.

Logan reluctantly let him go. At the doorway, Scott turned and grinned at him. “Let’s go to our room, Logan.”

Fuck, if that didn’t make his hard cock twitch. 

This time Logan waited until they were actually behind the closed door of their bedroom before he grabbed Scott and kissed him, until he was panting for breath again. 

With a SNIKT Logan popped a claw, aiming to shredded the Cyclops uniform off. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait, I can take it off, Logan,” Scott protested.

“Fine, but keep the visor on,” Logan ordered, letting the claw sink back into his forearm.

Scott started to frown, but Logan cut of the argument he could see building. “I know its for combat. But when I’m fuckin’ ya for the first time I want ya to see my face.” Maybe it was the fact that they’d already had sex a couple of times without Scott seeing him, but for this, he needed Scott to wear the ruby-quartz visor or the glasses, he didn’t care which. 

“Okay, yes,” Scott agreed, clearly struck by how damned seriously Logan meant it. 

Logan tore off the Wolverine uniform, not caring over how he ended up damaging it. He could get another. He kicked off his boots before turning to stalk Scott. 

The man was just down to his pants, so Logan gave him a hand. Willing to listen – and not wanting to start a pointless argument – he pulled them down, slipping to his knees to get them past Scott’s feet, fine-boned like the rest of him.

He licked at Scott’s inner thighs, ignoring his hard cock. 

“Oh, come on,” Scott groaned in protest, his hand settled lightly on Logan’s head but still tried to push him towards his hard-on. Logan chuckled, and stood up again. Scott’s sex pheromones were so heavy in the air they coated Logan’s tongue. Fuck, everything about him tasted so damned good.

Scott was close enough to the bed Logan was able to pick him up by the hips and toss him onto it. 

Scott yelped in surprise, putting a quick hand to his visor to keep it from slipping off. He recovered quickly, turning over to keep his gaze on Logan.

Logan dug out the lube and condoms he’d left on the night stand, taking a moment to click the lamp light on. While the light from the window was enough for him to be able to see everything clearly with his night vision he knew it wouldn’t be enough for Scott. He meant it when he said he wanted Scott to see everything too. He turned back to the bed. Scott was lounging on the pillows with his hand on his cock, slowly sliding up and down as he watched Logan come right to the edge of the bed.

“Like what ya see?” Logan asked, only semi-serious. He knew he wasn’t a beauty. Scott was the one who turned heads.

“Yeah, Logan I do,” Scott said, no lie in his heartbeat. “You look damned good.”

Hell, that was really flattering. Logan would have sworn that he was too old to blush but the heat climbing into his cheeks was unmistakable. Thank fuck Scott couldn’t see it through the red of the ruby-quartz visor.

“Hurry up, I want you to fuck me now,” Scott insisted.

Damn, if those words didn’t send of bolt of lust right down Logan’s spine and into his groin. His hard cock bounced in the air as he stalked to the bed, crawling onto Scott who leaned close to kiss him. Again he ignored the way the visor dug into his skin. 

“Ya got it, Scotty,” Logan growled, breaking the kiss. “Gonna fuck ya ‘til your feelin’ it tomorrow.” He bit at Scott’s neck, something the stupid uniform hadn’t let him do. He tasted the lingering salty sweat as Scott arched his neck, hips coming up to grind into Logan. He bit down again, this time on the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Logan, do that again,” Scott sighed.

So Logan did, biting over one of the first bites he’d given him making Scott moan again. Logan loved how much Scott enjoyed getting bit. He could see and smell how much it turned him on. It was like he was made for Logan in mind. Damned perfect.

Logan pushed his thighs between Scott’s until his legs sprawled open. He slid his hands down from Scott’s neck to his chest, stopping by to nip at his nipples which made Scott make another strangled noise in his throat as he dug his hands into Logan’s hair. Logan pressed his hands down his stomach, admiring the care Scott took with his body. The feel of Scott’s skin under his hands, the sight of him staring down at Logan and the sex flush on his cheeks, his want so thick in the air, hearing the beat of his heartbeat and rapid breathing, all of it narrowed the focus of Logan’s heightened senses down to just the two them on the bed.

Right now, all Logan knew was Scott.

He took Scott’s cock in his mouth, sliding his hard-on down Logan’s throat as he cupped his balls with hand, rubbing them with a firm thumb.

Scott’s hips bucked up and Logan took it, letting Scott slide out of his mouth before swallowing him down again. He opened up his throat so Scott sank in even deeper than before until Logan’s nose was against his public hair. Fuck, he loved being this close, tasting Scott on his tongue, smelling the musk of his body and feeling the nearly imperceptible tremble in his thighs as Scott fought for self-control. Logan could smell how close Scott was to coming, practically feeling the high energy in the air as Scott’s body flushed and fresh clean sweat broke out on his skin. 

Logan pulled off. He rumbled, “Not yet, Scotty. Want ya coming on my cock.”

Scott groaned, “Dammit Logan, you’re going to kill me.”

Logan snorted, amused at his choice of words considering their long history. 

He grabbed the lube and condom which had nearly sank out of sight in the sheets, opening it and pressing the slick onto his fingers. Scott hitched his hips up, moving his legs until his feet were flat on the bed but bracing Logan. 

The both froze in place as Logan pressed a finger to Scott’s hole. 

“Come on,” Scott insisted, his hips jerking toward Logan. “Come on, Logan.”

“Been thinkin’ about this,” Logan admitted, circling the tight muscle with a finger before finally thinking a finger into Scott’s body. The soft clutch at his finger made Logan pant at the thought of replacing it with his cock. He felt Scott relax so Logan added another finger, astonished at the ease of his fingers entering him.

“Me too,” Scott strangled out. “Ugh, just – just didn’t think you’d want to.”

Logan added a third finger, leaning over to lick the pre-cum dripping off the crown of Scott’s cock. 

“Been wanting to for damn long while,” Logan growled. 

“I’m ready. Come on. Fuck me, please,” Scott pleaded. 

Logan tore the condom wrapper open his with his sharp eyeteeth, rolling it onto his cock, before he wrapped his lube smeared hand on himself. Then he hitched Scott’s knees over his shoulders, held up Scott’s hips with his right hand and use his left to guide himself into him.

“Oh, fuck,” Logan moaned as he slowly sank in, it was a struggle to not push in all at once. This was Scott Summers he was fucking. Scott was letting him into his body. Down right demanding Logan fuck him. It was too damned much. Logan had to close his eyes just to keep a hold of his fraying self-control before forcing them open again so he could could take in the sight of Scott’s face. 

Scott was biting the bottom of his lip, moans slipping sweetly from his throat, and his hips hitched up trying to get Logan deeper into him. 

It was damned fascinating watching him struggle to retain control over himself. This man who was downright famous for his self-discipline. Logan was determined to see shred it all to pieces. 

He pushed in his cock all the way, until he was balls deep in Scott. 

Scott didn’t say a word, just made that pleasure sound in the back of his throat that made Logan’s stomach swoop.

Logan thanked Scott’s obsessive training for the fact he was so damned flexible because he could fold him in half, catching his panting mouth in another kiss before Logan began to fuck him in earnest. 

The only sounds in the room was their rapid heartbeats, their panting breaths, and the wet slap of skin on skin. 

All of Logan’s instincts were howling in triumph. This – this moment was what his feral side had been wanting, demanding of Logan. Finally claiming Scott as his, completely and utterly in a way that one would be able to take from him. 

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Logan rolled his hips steadily into Scott, putting a hand on his cock and loosely stroking it, getting them into the same rhythm, letting Scott fuck up into his hand even as Logan pulled nearly and only to push relentlessly back into him. 

Logan could smell how close Scott was to coming, he could practically feel it from how deeply their bodies where connect. 

So he growled out, fierce and hungry for it, “Go on Scott, come on my cock.” 

“Oh, fuck, Logan, Logan,” Scott groaned out as he came, pulses of cum covering both his and Logan’s chest. 

It was the last sensory input Logan needed. The hot feel of Scott and now the scent of his pleasure sent Logan over and had him coming his brains out.

He came back to himself to find himself sprawled all over Scott’s chest. He’d maneuvered himself so his legs were down, although still around Logan. He was rubbing his hands over Logan’s hair, fully relaxed and smelling of endorphins.

He didn’t even seem to care the semen was going to glue them together if they didn’t move apart soon.

“That was really good,” Scott said thoughtfully. “So when can I fuck you?”

Logan expected his feral side to protest at the idea (he’d had a few male lovers over the years but had never rolled over for any of them) but all he got from instincts was a clear ‘Hell, yes!’. Huh. 

“Whenever you’re up for it, Scotty,” Logan said, content as Scott’s fingers rubbed his scalp in a way that turned his already loose muscles into goo. 

“Good,” said Scott. After another minute of he said, “You know we should take a shower.”

And there was the neat freak.

Logan groaned into Scott’s neck, got distracted by how good he smelled and licked at the lingering sweat there. It tasted like both of them. “Are ya trying to get me to shower?”

“...maybe.”

“Fuck, fine, lead the way, but I’m getting a blowjob from ya.”

“If that’s what it takes,” Scott said, sounding like it was some harsh task put before him. Hell, Logan would even have believed it, if he couldn’t smell how much he liked the idea. “But then I want to work on the plan for getting O.N.E. out of Westchester.”

Logan snorted, rolled off Scott, and let himself be dragged to the shower. 

*-*-*-*

Scott waited until the following morning, and after the team had breakfast, before breaking the news of O.N.E.’s presence in Westchester as well as his decision to send them away for a well earned vacation.

“You can’t seriously be thinking we’ll leave you here to deal with O.N.E. on your own,” said Alex in disbelief. 

Logan side-eyed him, annoyed that he seemed to purposely forgetting he existed. The blond had to know there was no damned way he’d let Scott face those mutant-torturing assholes on his own.

“It’ll be fine, Alex. I don’t actually plan on fighting them, merely drawing them out of Westchester,” said Scott firmly. “It’ll take them a while to take down the established base Logan found. That’s why I prefer that you guys were out of town at the same time.”

“Well, if we’re going on vacation then its a perfect time for you guys to take that honeymoon you’ve been delaying,” Rahne said brightly, smiling.

“Self agrees,” Dani chimed in her robotic voice, changed by the transmode virus.

“I don’t know,” Jamie added. His two dupes nodded along with him. “I kinda like how the sounds of them having sex is torturing Dark Beast. Its hilarious.” The Madroxes grins were vicious.

Scott’s cheeks pinked and Logan had to leer at him.

“Ya are rather loud,” he said, amused. He really liked the idea of having Scott to himself for a while. 

“I’m not, you just have sensitive hearing,” Scott protested, blushing more to Logan’s utter delight. It was damned amusing how the ruby-quartz glasses accented the red in his cheeks.

“A honeymoon is needed. Self also agrees,” Shan said, smiling the biggest smile they’d seen from her while infected with the transmode virus. “It will make friends happy.”

“I can take you there!” Illyana said excitedly. She had the soulsword in her hand as if she was ready to go that very second.

“Thank you, Illyana, but the plan I have involves letting O.N.E. see me leave town,” Scott said explained.

“Us,” Logan grunted, correcting him. Because when Scott had first developed his idea, Logan had sworn that he was coming along too. It’d break any doubt about him being alive but he wasn’t about to let Scott paint himself as a target again without him there to watch his back.

If he even tried to keep him out of it, Logan had plans to knock his ass out and drag him out of town until they were somewhere far enough away where Scott couldn’t be a damned self-sacrificing moron.

“Us leaving,” Scott agreed, without hesitation. “It’ll draw them away from Westchester when they see me – us – go. Then they won’t have a reason to remain here anymore. That’ll leave you guys free to return to use Harry’s Hideaway when your vacation is over.

Scott’s brother finally turned to face them from where he’d been focused on the pool table. “I have a car you can use,” Alex finally spoke, his voice low.

Scott’s head turned to him and his body language softened. “Thank you, Alex.”

“Got it covered,” Logan said, eyeing Alex. He’d been wondering if he had to drag him off for more ‘training’. Disappointment flashed across Alex’s face to Logan’s surprise. It seemed he actually wanted to be helpful for once instead of a pain in the ass. Good. “They’ll see us better on my bike.”

Scott’s gaze was locked on his brother as he said, “I want you to take over as team leader while Logan and I deal with O.N.E.”

Alex’s breath caught. He opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say was cut off before he could speak.

“Yes!” said Rahne.

“Self agrees!” Dani and Shan chimed in unison.

“Oh,” Alex whispered. You didn’t need to have Logan’s enhanced senses to see how shaken he was at the confidence the others still had in him while he barely had any left in himself.

“I’m up for it,” Jamie said before adding teasingly, “but only if you promise not to be another Summers who goes and runs off to elope with a Wolverine.”

“I didn’t elope. I didn’t need parental permission,” Scott muttered. He leaned into Logan as he watched Alex sputter in protest as Rahne offered up Daken. “

Hell no, Logan would kill Alex for certain if he tried it.

“Ooh, what about Jimmy? He’s a sweetie,” Illyana said. “Hmm, sugar the sweet poison.”

Logan scowled, confused. He thought he knew all the others who claimed the title of Wolverine. “Who the fuck is Jimmy, Rasputin?”

“You haven’t met your son from an alternate universe yet?” she asked gleefully. “He’s blond!”

“Ah, I probably should have told you about him,” Scott said thoughtfully. Logan growled at him. “But in my defense I thought you already knew about Jimmy Hudson.”

Hudson?

Logan clamped his hand on his wrist and dragged him off upstairs, away from the others. “Ya tell me right now!”

Illyana leaned over to Rahne to whisper, “They’re going to have sex again, aren’t they?”

“I’ll let ye know when I hear them at it,” she giggled right back.

Logan pointed ignored them because it wasn’t like they weren’t right, just as soon as Scott filled him in on this supposed son of his. Then depending on how he felt on the end of the conversation, they could be having angry sex for the first – and he doubted the last – time in this marriage.


	7. Epilogue

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘em,” Logan swore as he eyed his desecrated motorcycle. Who the hell thought all that white ribbon and crepe paper was a good idea anyway? He sniffed the decorations. 

Damn it, Rahne!

“They’re just happy for us, Logan,” Scott said as he hitched his travel bag – a good quality leather knapsack Logan had gotten for him – into the motorcycle’s panniers. He walked around to the back of the back and paused. “Huh.” Then his cheeks pinked to Logan’s growing worry. What had they done to his poor bike?

“Do I wanna know?” Logan groaned in dismay, but joined him. 

There on the back was the sign he expected. A large font glittery “ **JUST MARRIED!!!** ” taped down to his poor bike with duct tape, ribbon and fucking tinsel of all things. What he hadn’t expected was the words in various handwritings between the ‘Just’ and the ‘Married’ which read: “ **JUST** when we thought they’d never get a clue & get their act together. I can’t believe they actually gave in to the UST that been drowning us for so many years. Self was surprised. Most of us thought they’d just have sex, not a honeymoon, no lie. Or friends kill each other. Sexy-times yeah! Oh, who won the pot? I think it was Kurt who picked they’d fall in lurve and get **MARRIED!!!**.”

“A pot?” Logan asked in disbelief. 

“I’m sure its only a joke,” Scott said, but sounding too damn doubtful to Logan’s ears. Then he seemed to shake it off because he added, “Well, I did ask for something eye-catching to make sure O.N.E. sees us leave Westchester.”

“Fine, then you’re taking responsibility and cleaning this shit off my bike at the next pit stop,” Logan said as he resigned himself to looking like a stupid parade float. He gestured at Scott to get on. The plan was for Scott to be front and center, and as damned eye-catching as he could be, to rile up the civvies and draw any enemies with them out of town. Then it was merry chase time for a week or so until they called Rasputin for a pick up. 

They’d then go check in on the team and take a day or so make sure they were settled – the Bahamas had been the decided vacation destination since Shan had a house where they could stay – and only after would they go on the honeymoon the others demanded they take. Where? Scott and Logan hadn’t quite decided yet. Although, Scott had been insistent on place with no beaches for him. Logan was definitely leaning towards mountains and woods. Hell, the Savage Land sounded great to him.

“Alright,” Scott said easily, before he checked the knapsack, the two burner phones the others had insisted he carry, the roll of money Logan had shoved into his pocket, his ruby-quartz visor and its back-up, even the ties of his black combat boots before finally settling onto the bike. 

If Logan didn’t already know he was in deep and sinking fast, the tug of fondness he felt at seeing Scott go through his anal retentive check of everything instead of feeling his usual irritation would’ve quickly clued him in. 

Fuck, he had it so damned bad. 

As Scott started the bike Logan to a second to enjoy the ferocious roar of the motorcycle before it smoothed out to a sweet rumbling purr. It may have taken more time than he would have liked but at least he’d finally fixed her.

Then Scott passed him the helmet that he’d insisted upon for this plan. Logan grumbled but put in on. It hid his face entirely, which was the point, as Scott had explained. He wanted to keep the knowledge of Logan’s own resurrection quiet for as long as possible. It was a tactical advantage they shouldn’t easily give up. After all if would be O.N.E.’s own damned fault if they attacked Logan without knowing he was Wolverine considering the clues Logan had left a the facility where they'd rescued the others. Scott had then smiled such a dangerous, predatory smirk at his explanation that it had turned Logan on when he’d seen it. 

Just because the man was a boy scout it didn’t mean he was incapable of being utterly ruthless when needed. It was hot.

Resigned to being driven on his own bike and wearing a stupid helmet he didn’t even need (fortunately the air vent sent enough fresh air to his nose or he really wouldn’t have been able to tolerate it, Cyke plan or no Cyke plan), Logan swung a leg and sat behind Scott, gripping his hips. He grumbled into Scott’s nape, complaining loud enough for him to hear through the face shield on how he was too damned tall.

Whenever they had the opportunity, Logan was getting another motorcycle so Scott had his own ride. While Scott was the only one Logan would tolerate touching his custom bike – not only because they were married – but because the man appreciated the beauty of a finely tuned, powerful engine in a way few X-men did, Logan wasn’t about to deal with having a face full of leather jacket for hours on end no matter how good the man smelled.

Scott ignored the grumbles about his height before he drove them out of an alley about two blocks from Harry’s Hideaway. They hadn’t wanted O.N.E. to backtrack their exit from the town to the bar so they planned to enter the public eye a good distance from it. Scott slowly steered the motorcycle down main street, making sure they were as loud and eye-catching as he could be. As they came close to groups of people, he slowed down and revved the engine. 

Logan heard more than one exclamation of recognition and saw several people point their phone’s camera lens in their direction. Scott helped by sitting up as straight as he could, letting the civilians all see the visible parts of his face, the Summers’ jaw, the distinct ruby-quartz visor he wore, and the blatant yellow X on his new black leather jacket.

Among the excited murmurs of the townspeople, and the shouts of surprisingly sincere congratulations from those who read the sign on the motorcycle, Logan’s sensitive hearing picked up the details of their passage being radioed in by frantic O.N.E. agents to their superiors. 

“They’re following us!” he shouted to Scott, who nodded.

It wasn’t until they’d come to a halt at the last stoplight on main street before they began their high-speed run out of town that Logan felt the moment Scott realized he’d been pressing his hard cock against his ass. 

“Getting a little excited there, Logan?”

“Its the motorcycle!” Logan replied at once, embarrassed all over again by his hair-trigger. He mentally grumbled how it was Scott’s fault for smelling so damned good.

“Alright,” Scott said, amusement leaking through his stoic calm. “Then what’s your reason for why you’ve been sniffing at my hair for the last two minutes.”

A beat of silence.

“...allergies.”

The roar of the engine as the light turned green didn’t hide Scott’s chuckle.

With narrowed eyes, Logan did the only thing he could think of to do while he was stuck behind him.

He growled. 

The bike swerved abruptly to the right nearly ending up on the sidewalk before Scott regained control. The smell of Scott’s arousal made Logan laugh.

“Wolverine,” Scott protested, the visible parts of his ears, neck and cheek were pink. “Not while we’re on a mission.”

Logan grinned hungrily. “Then you better shake those O.N.E. tails we’ve picked up.”

The motorcycle roared as Scott reved it to full power and they were speeding out of town, faster than anything on the road, leaving O.N.E. choking on their dust.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who stuck around and read this. Also for the encouragement considering I've never written anything X-men before this fic. I hope you enjoyed the ride.
> 
> We're done... well almost. There's also a post credits scene, that's what I've been calling it in my head.


	8. Post Credits Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a post credits scene (MCU has warped me) in my head that insisted it be writ. Enjoy!

Nathan kept his sniper scope on his dad, tracking him and Logan as they walked to the alley were they’d left their choice of transport out of Westchester. 

He’d expected the motorcycle and had slipped in a tracker to make it easier to keep an eye on them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned about this risky plan. While the O.N.E. operatives would have orders not to do anything to either man while civilians were keeping eyes and recording devices on the two X-men all it would take was one asshole wanting the glory of killing Cyclops for everything to go to hell. 

The Professor had put the odds at 38% probability of that happening which is why Nathan was back in this time.

Nathan mentally cursed how successful his father had been at being the mutant revolutionary leader who’d scared the bigots. Even now he remained their number one target for elimination.

That’s when he sensed two familiar psyches slip quietly behind him, so expert at suppressing their presence they were completely invisible to the five senses. Unfortunately for them, Nathan wasn’t so limited. 

They really needed to work on their mind-shields.

“You know I can always tell where you are,” Nathan said flatly. “And who the hell gave you idiots access to a time machine?”

“Come on, littlest older brother,” said one of the presences. “Calling us idiots really hurts us, you know. Also, it was a spell. крестная Illyana did us a favor, in exchange for some demon wrangling.”

“We _had_ to come pick you up, you’re gonna be late for Dad’s birthday party,” said the other. 

Nathan scowled and turned the expression on his two half-brothers. “I can’t be late. I can time travel.” 

The identical fanged grins on the Howlett-Summers twins, or Wild Twins as the rest of the X-men called them (although they really wanted their code names to be Savage J and Savage G, no one used them), really made the red glow of their eyes look especially terrifying. If Nathan didn’t already know his two little brothers were actually complete pushovers he’d probably be fooled by how dangerous the two young men looked, with their linebacker physiques, those glowing eyes, their fangs and the bone claws they could pop out at a moment’s notice and cover with brilliant red force shields. 

“Also how many times have I told you not to call me that, Gene?” Nathan asked. 

Gene Howlett-Summers’ smile widened. “Hey now, littlest older brother, how else am I suppose to differentiate you from when you are the biggest oldest brother?” 

__“You know Gene’s got a point,” chimed in John Howlett-Summers. The twins exchanged looks. “We’ll stop when you finally get taller than us.”_ _

__Nathan sighed, exasperated. He missed the days when they’d been small enough he could grab them in each hand and knock their heads together in punishment for annoying him. Yeah, he could do it with his telekinesis but it wasn’t the same. He’d honestly wonder if he was related to them if he wasn’t full aware from whom they’d all inherited their shared jawline. Although, the weird hair-tufts was all Logan._ _

__“Ooh,” Gene said as he pushed himself over Nathan’s right shoulder to stare down at where Scott and Logan were getting on the motorcycle. With his enhanced eyesight he didn’t even need the scope, to Nathan’s irritation. “Is this right after they get married?”_ _

“No, no, you know that it takes a while after they tie the knot for them to go on their honeymoon,” John corrected, pressing his weight on Nathan’s T-O virus riddled metal shoulder. “That’s why the Auntie Rahne and Auntie Dani always send them a sex-niversary gift a few days after their wedding anniversary gift shows up.” 

__“Really? I thought it was just a shipping mistake,” Gene said._ _

__“Year after year, Savage G?”_ _

__“You do have a point, Savage J.”_ _

__Nathan telekinetically tossed them both off him before they started in on their relentless cuddling habit. He crossed his arms. “Why are you really here? If you two were so concerned about the party then we’d already be gone.”_ _

__John and Gene exchanged glances before turning equal puppy-dog eyes on Nathan. The red glow faded until two pairs of wide brown eyes pleaded down at him._ _

__“What hell did you two do?” he asked now worried. The two only pulled those out when they felt they were in trouble so deep not even their healing factor could save them._ _

__John rubbed at his messy brown hair and looked sheepish. “You know that story of our origins we’ve been telling people for a few years now?”_ _

__“The one we came up with because Wade said being a created in a lab was so 2010s?” Gene added. He coughed. “You know, the one where we say that Dad knocked up Pops, that he carried us to term and then ran into the woods to cut us out of his body with his own claws?”_ _

__“Mother Askani give me patience,” Nathan said, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He hoped the headache he could feel building wouldn’t turn into a migraine. “How many times have I told you two _not_ to listen to Deadpool?”_ _

__“I have to, he’s Ellie’s Dad. You know Ellie is the _love_ of my life,” Gene insisted. His entire expression shifted into a dazed wondering look of a man lovestruck. _ _

__“And I have to support my brother in the attempt to win the hand of this beloved,” John added solemnly, his hand on his chest._ _

__Gene held out a fist so his twin could fist bump it, before he added, “Sooo, um, the story’s gotten around… and some A.I.M. goons may have captured Pops… and they may have spent the better part of three days asking how he got pregnant with us. And not politely.”_ _

__“Since he rescued him Dad-clops hasn’t stopped smiling and he keeps randomly chuckling to himself,” John whispered. “It's freaking everyone out.”_ _

__“Pops-claw has been hunting us down to take it out of our hides,” Gene admitted. “We barely escaped the last two times!”_ _

__“We may have pushed it too far when we got him those Mother’s Day gifts,” John said thoughtfully. “Or asking him for a baby sister.”_ _

__“Or,” Gene said slamming his right fist into his left palm, “he’s mad we’ve been cheating him out of over a decade’s worth of presents!”_ _

__“I’m not getting involved in this mess,” Nathan groaned._ _

__The loud roar of a motorcycle’s motor caught all of their attentions. In unison they turned to see Scott and Logan roll out onto the street from the alleyway (Nathan kept track of them through the scope). They watched as the men got safely to the town’s main street before heading out of Westchester. Some of the O.N.E. operatives which began to move weren’t even trying for subtlety as they chased after them._ _

__The Professor sent him a warning, so Nathan aimed his scope at the highest probability for danger to Scott – mentally cursed the telepathic shields the O.N.E. agents wore – and reached out to telekinetically jam the man’s gun._ _

__Enraged, John and Gene growled in unison._ _

__Nathan locked them down with a telepathic grip of their brains’ motor controls before they could make a move. Although the Howlett-Summers twins were pretty laid back and much harder to anger than any other Howlett (except for Jimmy) their most common hair-trigger was a visible threat to either of their fathers. When it was _both_ Scott and Logan in immediate danger they were known to go berserk._ _

__No matter how long he lived, Nathan wouldn’t forget the first time he’d seen two synchronized berserkers tear their gory way through enemy forces._ _

__Logan alone was awe-inspiring. Two of him who fought and moved like they were one…._ _

__Once they’d figured out what the twins’ trigger was neither Logan nor Scott ever went on missions with them if they could help it._ _

__“No,” Nathan said firmly. “They’ll be fine. You mess with this timeline and you could wipe yourself from existence.”_ _

__It took several minutes before he felt they’d regained enough control over their tempers for him to release them._ _

__John instantly grimaced, embarrassed. “Sorry, littlest older brother. We know.”_ _

__Gene didn’t look particularly repentant. “You’re sure, Nathan?” he asked worried, peering over to where the motorcycle vanished. “You know how distracted Pops gets when Dad’s out of costume.”_ _

__“As bad as you get whenever you see Ellie,” teased John._ _

__The worry subsided from Gene and he ducked his head. “Have you seen her wielding her guns? She’s amazing.”_ _

__“They’ll stay out of O.N.E.’s hands. Dad made the plan,” Nathan said, after confirming with the Professor A.I. on his arm. “Now we’re leaving for the party before I give in to the urge to shoot you both.”_ _

__“So you’ll protect us from He-Who-Pops-His-Claws-Too-Much?” John asked hopefully._ _

__Gene grimaced, “I think I like Señor Snikt-Snikt more.”_ _

__“Too long?”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__“We’ll workshop it,” John nodded._ _

__Again, Nathan wished for patience. He answered John, “No, you’re on your own.” But he because he couldn’t help himself, the entire story they’d cooked up was pretty funny considering it was about Logan. No wonder Dad found it so amusing. Smiling he added, “Logan’s _your_ mother.”_ _

__His brothers grinned at him again with identical delighted looks like they’d just won a prize they hadn’t expected to get._ _

__Before they could say a word, Nathan had the Professor send them all to the future._ _

__End_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the internets ‘крестная’ is Russian for godmother but if I used that incorrectly please let me know, and I’ll just switch it to English.
> 
> So this bit came about because having mentioned future Howlett-Summers (and knowing the tradition X-men comics have at having future kids show up all the time) I could NOT resist creating the Wild Twins. I’ve kinda fallen in love with them as I spent entirely too long working on fact sheets about them. 
> 
> Such as the fact that they are such jokesters and so easy-going that all the X-men keep wondering if there’s more than Scott and Logan in their genome. There isn’t. They just came under the influence of both Bobby, Kurt and Illyana at a young age. 
> 
> Whenever Jean resurrects they call her Mama Jeanie.
> 
> As far as Illyana is concerned they are the ‘two favors’ that Logan owes her.
> 
> If you’re an X-man (or family or a guest) and you sit still for too long in the common areas, they will cuddle you. Yes, they have done this to Daken, Magneto, Brand and Fury. Basically, no one is safe.
> 
> Also as soon as they get to lead their own teams they are planning on naming one X-Girlfriend and the other X-Boyfriend, because what’s more terrifying to the bad guys than having a team of eX-Girlfriends or eX-Boyfriends show up to kick their asses? 
> 
> LOL.


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